


A New Day Has Come 2

by Acacia_Mac



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Canon, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Points of View, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-09
Updated: 2004-10-19
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:58:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acacia_Mac/pseuds/Acacia_Mac
Summary: Brian's POV of the events that took place in A New Day (part one).  Brian helps Justin get settled into his new life, while both try to deal with what Craig did to Justin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Okay… where the fuck to start. I bet you’re wondering where I stand in my life. Then again, you’re most likely saying ‘Why would I give a fuck?’ Well, frankly, I don’t give a fuck. It seems like my life is on the front page of _Pittsburgh Out_ anyway, so I might as well just give you the real version and not some cooked up bullshit that they are saying. 

Today is moving day. I hate moving and since this is NOT my move, but Justin’s I hate it even more. I keep telling the shit that he can just stay with me, but he tells me that bullshit about how he needs to be a man… he needs to do this on his own. What the fuck is that shit? At times I wonder why I even bother.

So we’re moving his shit into this small ass apartment, trying to find room to put his things. Even though he doesn’t have a lot of crap, I know that most of his stuff will have to stay in storage. Only the essentials. How anyone can live like this is beyond me. But this is Justin ‘being a man’, ‘taking care of himself’. Damn little shit. I don’t know what I have to do to convince him that it will just be easier on everyone if he just stays with me. I don’t know what I would have to do to convince him that I want him there.

But does my opinion matter in any of this? Fuck no. I’m just the guy who fucks him, what would I have to say about it?

That’s the other thing… what exactly are we? We’re lovers, that much I have figured out… but besides that? Well, Justin hasn’t told me anything else. I figure with everything that’s going on in his life, with all the shit he’s dealing with – I’m not going to push him. I’ll be a good little boy, and let him decide what and where he wants to be. Only problem is… I hate his fucking choices.

I want him with me. I want him to be home when I get there. I want him!

But if you ask anyone else, I don’t give a damn about anyone but myself. Justin’s the only one who has never believed that, he’s the only one who had not bought into my little ‘credo’. He’s the only one who has not blindly followed me, who has actually challenged me. That’s why I want him.

I can talk to him – have an actual intelligent conversation with him. Mikey… I love Mikey, don’t get me wrong – but with Mikey it’s mainly shit about our past, or some stupid shit. Ted… well we don’t ever really have much in common per say. Emmett? Mel? Ha! Yeah, right. Lindsey and I mainly talk about Gus. 

But Justin… Justin is smart, funny… hot as hell. He never takes my shit either – hell, he’ll call me on it every time.

Okay, yeah, so there was a time when he didn’t – when he forgot how to read me. But we’re getting back to the way things were – at least in the understanding each other aspect. It’s … it’s strange almost how much things have changed between us. I only wish that he would trust me enough – that he’d let me take care of him. 

Yeah, like that shit will ever happen. 

Justin wants to be independent… he wants to quote ‘be a man’ unquote. I hate that he feels he can’t let me do shit for him. It’s only money. I want to take care of him.

It’s not like anyone else gives a damn what happens to him. Especially not his so called family.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a little over a year since he left for that school – left all of us here. I remember that day that he came by and he told me about Ethan – the truth behind Ian… Ethan. I was so fucking pissed at him. I mean how dare he fucking try and force something out of me. How dare he decide what we will be without talking to me about it?!

Yeah, I know – I fucking know all right! I know, I’m not the easiest person in the world to talk to. Hell I’m not even in the top one million, but damn. He was the one who was supposed to talk, to get me to ‘open up’. I know now that we both failed. We both failed in the relationship – yes we were in one even then. I pushed him away, and he let me. 

When he walked out that door the next morning, I felt like my soul was being ripped out of my body. I was still in shock about Ian – or rather his non-relationship with Ian – then to hear that he was leaving. For a fucking year. Once again he was making the decisions for the both of us, and once again… I was letting him. Stupid, I know. Trust me, I know. Yeah, I know I was the one who had pushed him off the cliff, but he’s the one who walked out the door.

So what the fuck was all that shit about Ian being fake… their whole … whatever the fuck, being fake? Justin told me that he only wanted to get me to open up? It just didn’t make any sense – still doesn’t. I don’t know what to think about all that mess. So when I dragged my ass out of bed, and saw his note… I wanted to find him and kick his ass. I wanted answers – I fucking deserved answers. 

But he denied me those answers. He fucking denied me everything. Fucking little shit. He left, only leaving a damn letter in his wake. Justin was gone – leaving the fucking country – and all I got was a damn letter.

I remember picking it up, ready to rip the damn thing to shreds… so pissed at the little shit for running like that. But I also realized… maybe I owed it to him – to US, to see what he had to say.

_Dear Brian,_

_I don’t really know what to say. Thank-you for everything that you have done for me over the past two years. I can never thank-you enough. I know that you felt you were doing the right thing by letting me go, and I think that now I can be grateful that you did. I know that if we were still together I wouldn’t have been able to make this trip… so once again I have you to thank for that._

_I want to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve done lately. I’m sorry I lied to you. I tried to get you to admit something that you weren’t ready to admit. For that, I’m also sorry._

_I know, sorry’s bullshit, but I do wish I could change what I did. I wish I was man enough to admit to you what I was feeling. But I was afraid._

_I want you to know that I don’t blame you for anything. If anything I am the one to blame. You gave your all, and near the end…I refused to listen. That wasn’t your fault, that was mine. I wish things had turned out differently._

_But maybe we need this time apart… time for me to once again be able to read you the way I used to. For me to grow up… to experience all the things that you had wanted me to experience. This is my chance I guess to get over everything, to get over being a kid, and be a man. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to try and live my life this next year to the fullest. I hope that we can be friends, that you will still allow me in your life. I know I want you in mine._

_I don’t want to lose you, Brian… you mean so much to me that I don’t think I can fully function without you. I’m going to try… try to function on my own. I’ve never done that. I’ve always been taken care of… so now it’s time to start taking care of myself… to see if I can do it on my own._

_I know now that you care for me… I’m listening Brian… for the first time in months, I’m finally listening. Last night proved to me that you care. I’ve thought about this, about everything and I know that you care for me. I don’t know if it’s love… but what we have I think (at least for me) is much stronger than any love that I have ever experienced._

_I know I can’t ask you to take me back someday, cause I know I’ve hurt you. I will be here, however, if you ever decide that we might be worth another chance. That I might be worth it again._

_I hope to hear from you someday, cause as I said, I would like to be your friend._

_I love you Brian, I always will_   
_Later,_   
_Justin_

I pride myself on being able to read people… to know what they are hiding. But with Justin… well he sure as hell pulled one over on me. I don’t know how I missed it. Things were going pretty good between us… I am not even sure when things got so fucked up that I couldn’t read him. It makes me wonder what else he’s been hiding from me.

All I DO know… I’m not going to listen to anyone else and their crap when it comes to Justin and I. This time around I am not going to let the ‘gang’ try and tell us how to do things… listen to their crap. 

Granted, I must say that this separation was good for us, just as he said it might be. We both found things out about ourselves. Granted, the thought of what that asshole Craig did to Justin… if I ever see that fucker out on the town… 

I can still remember the day that we started ‘talking’ again. I was surprised that he actually accepted my chat invitation. I’m glad that he was willing to take that step. I know I should be insulted that he thought all I did on the net was sex shit… but I guess I’m finding out that there’s a lot we don’t know about each other. 

Things went smoothly for a while, but as usual, it didn’t last long. 

So two months after Justin left, I started to hear that he had stopped talking to his mom. Of course I got hell for that. Somehow it was – of course – my fault. Go fucking figure. Justin and I were becoming friends… something I never thought we’d be – but he never confided in me his personal life. School – yes, the gang – yes. But now looking back on it… he never once talked about what he was feeling, what he was doing. So I just let things go on as they were. No fuss, no muss. 

I don’t know if I can even really pinpoint when things went to shit for me. But I can honestly say that through it all, Justin was there beside me. He might not have been physically here, but he was that damn little voice in the back of my head. 

In all my years as an Ad Exec, I had never once refused to do a job… I had never once put my job on the line for anything. Then again, I have found myself doing things that I never used to do since the day I met Justin. Something about him has made me do things I never would have done before. Damn twink.

There I was – someone without a heart – working for the enemy. Or so they thought. The only thing is that despite the possibilities – the opportunities that this could have given me, and the change to get out of the fucking Pitts – I purposely fucked it up.

Everyone thought I was working for Stockwell, and I was for a while. But the conflict of interest… well I told him to go to hell. I guess telling a client that he’s a fucking asshole, and he can go fuck himself wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. Vance fired my ass for being unprofessional right on the spot. 

There I was, out of a job – nothing left. I was pissed. Damn right fucking furious. So I fought back. It took two weeks to put my revenge together, but I did. 

See Stockwell didn’t like fags – hated the thought of taking it up the ass. He wanted to ‘clean up the city’. I cleaned up all right. Fucker.

What can I say? I love fucking with people. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.

He lost the election and I got a better fucking job. Vance felt like shit when the truth about the asshole came out. That he was an accessory to murder. Vance came to me… practically begging me to come back – so the company could save face. 

What did I do? I told him to fuck off. I wasn’t going to work for some asshole who had his ideas… who would fire me for standing up for something. So I looked elsewhere. 

It’s different. A different firm. But I’m full partner – huge benefits package. Most of my clients left Vanguard and came with me. I guess Vance is really hating life right now. Hell, I even took Cynthia with me. Vanguard can fall apart for all I care.

Anyway, it took a while, but I was back on top. Better off then before, cause now I could take more time off. They loved me there.

When Justin told me – after I was finally able to get in contact with the little shit – that I had ignored him. That I wasn’t being a ‘good friend.’ Well I blew up. How the fuck can he say that shit and not expect me to react? We argued, but it all worked out in the end I guess. We’re here. 

The thing that I still haven’t been able to get to the bottom of – to decide what I was going to do about – was Mikey. I have to decide though. Justin has enough shit to deal with that he really shouldn’t have to deal with Mikey’s bullshit too. I’ll have to think about that, and soon.

“I think I need to get a smaller bed,” Justin stated as he came out from one of the back bedrooms. This apartment was fucking small. I don’t think that I had ever lived in a place this tiny. 

I move to sit on the small couch that Daphne has in the apartment, trying not to think of what is in this thing. I can already feel my skin itch. “There’s a nice big bed at the loft.” 

“Brian.” He begins. 

I know, I fucking know all right? Justin and I have been through this shit quite often. I keep telling him he needs to move back into the loft, and he keeps telling me he needs to ‘grow-up’. What a load of crap. I’ll let him make his choices, stay here. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop asking… stop bringing it up. The thing is, I want him there. The loft is empty without him. During his time away, I found that I actually miss having him around. And it’s not just the sex with him… although that is an added plus. 

“Dammit, Justin. You have a perfectly good place to stay. Don’t expect me to be all for this fucking ‘independence’ kick you’re on.” People say that I don’t care what others think, what they want – but that would be a lie. I do care. I just don’t show it, at least not all the time. “You’re going to do what you want, but don’t expect me to be jumping up and down. You know where I stand, and I think you’re making a mistake.”

Okay, so I’m honest to a fault at times. I can get Justin’s feathers ruffled more than not. Especially when I– as he says – treat him like a child. Then again, what does he expect when that’s exactly what he is acting like… a spoiled little brat. Justin just walks up to me and places his hand on my arm. I want to just shrug it off, tell him to fuck off… but I don’t. Little shit has me wrapped around his little finger and he has no clue what he does to me – what he makes me do. Fucking shit. “Brian. I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me. And for the fact that you’re letting me do this. I know you don’t like it, but this is something I have to do for myself. I have to do this, and I would appreciate it if you would let me do it. Let me make my own mistakes… let me find out what it’s like to be myself. I have to do this… especially now.”

I pull my arm out of his grasp, and just move to place another box on the old, nasty looking bed. “Whatever. You’re going to do what you fucking want… you always do.”

It’s the same old argument that we have been having since we got off the plane. He wants to be grown-up. He wants to play with the big boys. And here I thought I had actually taught him to ask for help if he needs it, that that’s what a man should do. But does he listen to me? Fuck no. He doesn’t think he needs any help. 

I wonder if things had been different. I shouldn’t, but I do. I mean, what if he hadn’t found out that his father is a piece of shit? What if he still believed in the ‘image’ of his father? Would he be willing to accept help? Would he be willing to come to me and stay? I don’t know if there are answers to that. I really don’t.

But fuck… I have seen glimpse of the old Justin every once in a while. The one who would stand up to me, call me on my shit. Anything’s better than the lost look that I see in his eyes sometimes at night. He doesn’t think I notice, but I do. I see him leave the bed at night and watch him as he looks out over the night sky for hours. I can see his body tremble with pain… the tears streak down his face. 

God… I want to kill Craig Taylor. I want to rip his balls off and shove them down his fucking throat. 

Justin tries to be strong, tries to pretend that it doesn’t matter, but I know better. It kills him. His whole life he was lead to believe one thing, and now everything that he knew is gone. His entire past has been torn up and spit out. He doesn’t think he has anything left. He feels like he is nothing. I know, even if he doesn’t talk about it. I know what he’s feeling. I know. 

I felt it for a long time myself. What did I do wrong? Why did my father like to use me as a punching bag? Why the fuck didn’t my mother give a damn? The thing is… I stopped caring. I stopped giving a damn what the fuck they did. It wasn’t my fault for their fuck ups. I wasn’t the reason why they couldn’t accept shit, and took it out on a helpless kid. They were the fucked up ones… they just wanted to drag me down with them.

I wish I could say that they didn’t succeed, but I can’t really. I am fucked up… but I would never do what they did to me. I wouldn’t treat a child, or anyone like that. 

But Justin… he had it all growing up. His family was the kind that I wanted to have growing up. At least that’s what I thought.

Everyone believed that Justin had it all. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth… never wanted for anything. Boy were we ever wrong. I just wish he didn’t have to go through it. Not the first time, and not now.

I guess the only thing I can do really is be here for him. I can’t take away the past, but I can try to make it easier on him… make living today easier. 

He’ll fight me… hell yeah he’ll fight. But that’s the fun. Just like when he saw me in his room in Italy. 

We’ve had some good times. We will again. We have to.

I can’t let him drown.


	2. A New Day Has Come 2

The thing is, when I went over to Italy I never thought that I would find what I did. Justin had been ignoring me, and honestly I had enough of his shit. See, I’m not totally stupid when it comes to him. I knew from the moment he left that something was wrong – even before that. I had thought that things were getting better, that being away would be a good thing for him. I was so wrong. 

I knew something big was going on. Justin’s a talker, and when he wouldn’t ‘talk’ to me, I just knew. He completely avoided any discussion about himself. School – yes, friends – yes, but family and himself… no. Something was up and I was going to find out, come hell or high water. The little shit was avoiding me. 

So when he stopped talking to me altogether, I blew. I hopped on the first fucking plane I could get out there, and I was determined to find out what his problem was. Things were going all right between us, I guess you could say. We were actually talking, getting to know each other for the first time. Yeah, we could tell you how to make the other cum without much effort, where our hotspots were… but it was the other shit, you know? I found out I really didn’t know him at all. 

Go figure. He leaves and after practically two years we were finally getting to know each other. So I’m backwards. I never once said I was good at this shit. Justin was the first person, besides Mikey, that I really wanted to spend time with. But unlike Mikey, Justin and I had more. Yeah, we had sex added to the mix – fanfuckingtastic sex, but it was more than that. Justin was the first person I wanted to have sex with more than once. He’s the first person I know who could keep up with me. 

Justin was also the only person I knew who could keep up with me intellectually. He’s smart as fuck, and he’s not ashamed to straighten me out when I’m wrong. I remember times we would sit in front of the TV – watching some show or another – and he would debate with me about something we saw. He was never afraid to express himself, and what he knew – or thought he knew – was right. 

That’s why I knew something HUGE was going on. 

I just never thought I would find out what I did. 

I remember when I got there, someone had let me up to his room. Justin isn’t really a messy person, but his mind is on like 5,000 things and he forgets at times where he put things. He doesn’t always remember to put it back. Justin would always yell at me if I tried to pick up his things, telling me that he wasn’t done with that item, or whatever. And sure as fuck he would go right back to that in no time flat. If he said he would do something he would. I had never known him to break his promise… well not always. 

The thing is… he tries. And if he fails, he will be first to admit it. He actually feels bad about not following through with that promise. 

That’s Justin. 

I guess that’s why I was so upset – so damn fucking furious with him. But sitting on his bed that day… looking at his sketch book… fuck! 

I sat there looking at these drawings, feeling the coldness seep into me. Luckily, the door opened and there he was. Standing there shocked out of his mind. God, did I want to laugh as I watched him blink a couple of times and shake his head. “What the hell are you doing here?” is how it all started. 

I had tried to act cool, tried to play it as if I wasn’t ready to rip his fucking balls off and … whatever. That didn’t last long though. Justin always has a way of making me so furious, so ready to hurt someone. Gotta love relationships. Opposites attract? Ha! They haven’t met us. 

I remember parts of the whole day, the whole drama that we went though. I had moments when all I wanted to do was kill him, others where I just wanted to take him back to my hotel room and fuck him into oblivion. He wouldn’t let me do either, wouldn’t even let me talk. 

And here I was complaining that he wouldn’t talk to me. I asked for it… and I sure as fuck got it. 

He stormed out of the room, and I followed him. Yet another rule I had broken because of him. So at the beach close to the school… everything I had thought about us, about him came crashing down around him. Everything was shattered when he asked me what I was looking for. 

“I’m looking for the fucking truth, Justin,” I told him, as I moved to sit down on the sand. I was so tired, both from jetlag and from this whole fucking mess. He was gong to tell me, even if I had to sit and wait for him to do it. “What the hell is going on? This isn’t like you. You don’t call me after I had been silent for two weeks, yelling that I haven’t called then turn around and do the same damn thing. I think you own me an explanation, don’t you?” I sure as hell wasn’t going to take his ‘I don’t own you anything’ shit either. 

“It isn’t easy for me, Brian. It hasn’t been easy for me.” He told me, looking down at me. He looked even more exhausted than I felt, so I knew it wasn’t good. Something was bothering him, and he wasn’t sure he could even tell me. 

I knew I had to try and do something. I had to try and get him to open up. “Try.” Okay, so that’s one of the biggest jokes in the universe, I know. Me trying to get him to open up when I myself never once believed in that sort of shit. 

Justin wrapped his arms around himself, not looking at me. He was closing himself off from everything. I just held my breath, hoping that he would tell me and not make me do something I had never dreamed I would do. Luckily he did. Or should I say unluckily? I never wanted to hear the shit that was coming out of his mouth. I never thought that I was so fucking wrong about things. It was like we were watching the same movie, but the movie is totally different for each of us. I’m watching some action movie and he’s stuck on romance, or some shit like that. 

I was so wrong about a lot of shit. 

I sat there just looking out at the ocean, with him sitting beside me, just listening to him go on and on. I couldn’t believe some of the crap that he was saying, and it’s thigns that I had never known about. I had thought that he was over the whole business, but as I said… I was wrong about a lot of shit. 

He told me about how the Rage party, and re-enactment effected him, and in all honesty, I had no clue. I guess there was that part of me that didn’t realize that it would hurt him. Hell, he was the one who had wanted to do the damn thing to begin with… he’s the one who brought it out with that damn comic. The other part of me knew, I just couldn’t get past my own pain at seeing it again to even realize that it would affect anyone else. 

I knew that us pushing it to the side, not talking about it could cause problems later on, but there’s a part of me that really didn’t care. I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want to remember that night. I remember when we were trying to get Justin to remember the events, that I had told him that I wish I could forget it. I didn’t lie when I said that… it was probably the most honest thing I have ever said in my life. I didn’t… don’t want to remember the way his head snapped back when the bat connected with his skull. I don’t want to remember the sound that echoed throughout the parking garage. 

I don’t want to remember it, so I didn’t talk about it. I don’t ever want to talk about it. Maybe I should, for Justin’s sake if nothing else, but I don’t know if I can. I guess there’s a part of me that didn’t realize that no one else would bring it up with him. I would have thought that his mom, or Daphne would talk about it. Hell, I thought that Deb would be doing something… if nothing else than trying to make Justin some ‘poster boy’ for gay rights. 

“I realized when I got here, what the main problem was. It wasn’t the bashing really that I had a problem with. I mean I did… but there was so much more to it than that. It was the fact that I am missing days of my life. I didn’t remember Emmett helping me get ready. I didn’t remember the party for Michael. I didn’t remember asking Daphne to the Prom. I didn’t remember the dance. I guess that I just couldn’t handle not remembering anymore. I wanted those missing days back. I wanted something besides those brief images I did have of Hobbs… of the attack,” he tells me. 

Yet another thing that I didn’t realize that he had a problem with. Okay, so sue me. We didn’t talk… maybe we should have, but we didn’t. We never talked about that night after he remembered that little bit he did. I guess I had just assumed when he remembered that part while we were at the Munchers for Gus’ party, that the rest of it would just come back to him as well. I’m not a fucking doctor, so how was I supposed to know? All I knew was that things were okay. Not great, but okay. He was getting back on track, so why the hell should I bring it back up? 

Yeah, I’m an ass. Fuck you. 

After he told me that, he fucking dropped the huge bomb on me. He told me he was going through this whole regression thing. He wanted to remember it… remember it all. I was pissed to say the least. Why the fuck would he want to do that? Why in the hell would he want to do that… especially since he was doing it without someone there to tell him if he was remembering it right or not? He should have at least had Daphne there with him. 

Of course he knew. He knew that I wouldn’t like it, and I sure as hell don’t like it to this day. Hell, look at what happened when he went and did something on his own. When he tried to be a man. The damn little shit. I wonder why I even put up with him at times. His whole ‘I think that it’s time for me to stand-up and take control of my life,’ shit only angered me even more. 

He kept going on and on about how he was some sort of ‘charity case’, and blame in the whole thing. I flat out told him that we would never be able to agree on that… never. I know that I am at least partly to blame for what happened. Hell, I was the one who outted him at school that first day. How the hell could he tell me that I had no blame at all? What a bunch of bullshit. 

“I’m glad that you came, Brian. It was good to see you. But you know how I’m needing things to be. Think about it. Whether we’re friends or lovers, it has to be because it’s what we both want. It has to be because of something besides guilt. I won’t deal with that anymore. I’m tired.” 

I remember sitting there long after he had left. I was pissed. Totally and absolutely pissed. How fucking dare he say that shit to me. I was ready to just pack my bags and leave his sorry ass here. Forget all about him. I don’t even know what stopped me, but something did. Something stopped me from getting in a taxi. So as I went back to my room, I pulled out a pen and paper and went about putting all that shit that was going through my mind down on paper. 

I told him everything … well almost everything that I had going through my head. The little shit. ‘He was a liability?’ What the fuck was that shit? 

It was a couple of days later when I found myself sitting back at that same spot on the beach. I had no idea if he would come, or not, but I had to be there. I had to try and see if he had thought about what I had said. I had told him to call, but he never did. I can’t say though that I was surprised that he was there at the beach. 

We talked, for one of the first times since we had been together. We started to clear up some of the shit that we had pushed off to the side for so long. Of course I corrected him on some of his bullshit thinking. ‘Charity case’. Twat. I may not know a lot about relationships, but I know enough that when one is weak the other compensates for the other’s fault. Hence, Justin didn’t have money, I do… should have been end of story. Yeah right. 

His getting his own place, is just another moment of him shoving that in my face. Just another way that he’s denying it at all. His moving into Daphne’s… ‘being a man’ is just a huge slap in the face to me. Yeah, he doesn’t realize it, but it’s true. 

Justin snaps me out of the past, but dropping a box on the floor beside bed. “Are you going to help, or just sit there all day?” He asks me with a small smile on his face. 

Looking up at him, I just lean back on the bed that I somehow managed to squeeze my long body into. Christ, this bed is going to be the first to go. He better not expect me to fuck him in this thing. I’d never be able to walk again. “You want to be a man, you can do it all by yourself.” 

“Fucker,” he tells me throwing a pillow in my face. I pulled the damn thing off and shoved it behind my head. “You are such and ass at times. I don’t know why I put up with you.” 

“It’s because of my wonderful personality.” I tell him relaxing as much as I can in this piece of shit. I’ll just let him do the shit by himself, since he wants to be his OWN man. He wanted it… well he’ll find out sooner or later that being grown up isn’t as fun as he’d like to think it is. 

Hell, if I had someone who was willing to take care of me when I was his age… someone who cared for me, then I might have jumped at the chance. Then again, maybe not. I don’t know if I’d take it or not, now that I think about it. So maybe I’m not the best one to tell him what to do. Maybe I would do the exact same thing that he is. 

I mean, my life was shit growing up, no doubt about that. Living with the Warden and dear ol’ Jack wasn’t a walk in the park, but I can honestly say that at least I knew they didn’t want me. Justin had a good life growing up. He had the typical ‘high-class’ life that I had craved while growing up. He had the life that many of the people I hung out with wanted. The whole white picket fence, and shit like that. WASP, just like Lindsey. 

I guess they prove that it’s not all fun and games in that type of life. Being the child of the white-collar worker isn’t as great as we all wanted to believe. 

Of course, I don’t have any idea how a father could do what Craig did to Justin. Jack may have been shit, but I knew where I stood. He only touched me to beat the shit out of me. He didn’t pretend to be anything but a piece of shit. Unlike Craig, who pretended to be a loving father, one who wanted his son to be the best in everything, all the while destroying Justin. 

You don’t touch your kid that way. You don’t do to a kid what he did to Justin. 

I remember when I was completely ignorant to the whole thing. Hell, Mark – Justin’s shrink over there – told me that there was more going on then I realized. He told me that I would have to be there for Justin when he was ready. There’s that part of me that knew… I just knew, but I didn’t want to admit it. There was no way that something like THAT could have happened to him. No way in hell. 

Once again… I was so fucking wrong. 

When he finally admitted it to me, that night before I left – I don’t know what I was thinking. I remember asking him about those sketches. I remember wondering what could be bothering him. All I knew was whatever was bothering him, that damn sketchbook held the answers. 

I left him there on the bed, the night before I was going to leave, and for some reason, I just had to look at those pictures again. I don’t know what it was about them… what kept drawing me to them, but it did. It was almost like it was screaming at me to figure it out. He was upset of course when he found me sitting there with it, yet again, but I just couldn’t let it go. I had to know what was really going on before I got on that plane. 

He went drama princess on me of course – yelling, screaming, threatening to leave… the whole nine fucking yards. But I wasn’t going to drop this. I wasn’t going to get on that damn plane until I knew the truth. “Then fucking explain to me what the fuck is going on!” I remember yelling at him as I grabbed his arm. I wasn’t going to drop it, I wouldn’t let him hide behind it. I knew we had come too damn far, worked too damn much to let this ruin whatever we were. “I’m sure it can’t be as bad as what is going through my mind, Justin.” I remember telling him. 

And fuck if I had known then… 

Maybe my thoughts were right on target. I just didn’t want to believe it. He told me that his therapy with Mark had brought something up… something that he didn’t remember until now. Now, I had read about this regression therapy, but I didn’t believe it. One, why would someone do that? And two… it’s literally having someone go into your head and opening all the damn doors that are shut for a reason. I believe that the reason why Justin isn’t able to remember the Prom is because he just can’t deal with it right now. It’s our body’s way of protecting us. I believe that. 

So why the fuck would we want to have someone open a damn door that shouldn’t be open? When our body is telling us that we won’t be able to handle it. 

But he kept avoiding telling me. He was hurting, that much I could tell. And if there’s one thing that I can’t stand is him hurting. For any reason. I wanted to do something, but he wouldn’t let me. So I kept pushing, and pushing. Almost forcing him to tell me. 

Of course he wouldn’t let it slide completely. The little shit. “Fine, but if I’m going to do this.. you have to promise me some things first.” He started on his list of rules. I don’t know what it is with him and rules, but like the first set, I had all intention of keeping them. If only he would just spit it out. 

So I agreed to keep my mouth shut until he finished. I agreed to not comfort him. I agreed to still get on the plane the next day. I figured what the hell, those shouldn’t be too hard. Right? But when he asked me to not seek revenge… I knew that the shit had hit the fan. Something BIG was up. 

I promised, albeit reluctantly. But I promised none the less. Well at least until I found out what the hell he was talking about. 

So he started to talk. He talked about his dad, and some shit about how he finally knew why his dad had a huge problem with him being gay. To say I was completely lost is an understatement. But the farther he got in his explanation, the harder it was for him to say the words. So he stopped talking and just threw his sketchbook at me. “Those pictures are real… at least I think they are. My da… Craig used to come into my room after Mom was asleep. That book shows what I remember… if it’s true. That’s what he … what I think he did. That’s what I can’t say.” 

I remember sitting on that damn bed, looking at the sketches of a small boy, sitting in a dark room. A room like any child would have, or at least one that I pictured a child of his statue would have. But it was the look in the boy’s eyes. The way the boy curled in around himself… holding himself tight. It was the light from the door opening shining in on the young boys face. It was the look in the older man’s eyes… I felt sick. 

And those weren’t the worst pictures either. With every page I turned I could feel what Justin was feeling. I was repulsed, sick, and damn fucking pissed. I wanted to hurt… no fucking KILL Craig Taylor for what he had done. 

All I wanted to do was help Justin. I didn’t know what I could do, but I was going to be dammed if I didn’t do SOMETHING! 

“No one can understand… no one knows. Hell I don’t understand! I don’t understand how the one person who I trusted with my life… who I loved unconditionally could do that! I don’t understand how I could forget something as important as him fucking molesting me! How could I try so hard to get him to accept me when he did that to me?!” 

Just hearing him say the words… the words that fucking school teachers, psychologists and fuck all came up with for that act… it killed a small part of me. It really did. Molest. Such a small word for such a fucked up, shit all act. 

A part of me could understand Justin’s reluctance to want to talk about it. I could understand, because I don’t really talk about what Jack did to me. And that was NOTHING compared to what that asshole Craig did to Justin. Nothing! 

I had never broken a promise before in my life, but I knew. I just fucking knew. 

I knew, as I held Justin crying in my arms that night – I fucking knew that there was one promise I couldn’t keep. 

I couldn’t stay out of it. I wouldn’t. 

I wouldn’t let Craig Taylor live another day of his life, without knowing what a fuck-up he was. I wasn’t going to let Justin live with the thought that Dear ol’ dad could be doing the same thing to his sister. 

I wasn’t going to live another day without making Craig Taylor pay… and pay big. 

He owed Justin that. He owed Justin a hell of a lot more than what I plan on doing to him. 

And I have every intention of making that shit pay. 

Cause I don’t have the answer that Justin is looking for, and it tears me up inside. 

I can’t tell him why.


	3. A New Day Has Come 2

“Well, I think that’s everything.” Justin told me as he come to lay down beside me on the small bed. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

I pull Justin to me, and run my hand up and down his back. “So what now?” I ask him. That’s’ something that I guess has been bothering me. I have no idea what was going to happen now. I have no idea where we were going to go from here.

Justin placed his head on my chest and grabbed my hand. I just watched him as he linked his fingers with mine. It still amazes me, he still amazes me. I think back to our shared past, and I still can’t believe that we’re still together. Granted I was kicking and screaming the entire way, but for some reason I don’t mind. I feel content, I guess that’s what you would call it. I like having him around. A part of me always did. 

From that first night that I brought him home and fucked him, I knew that there was something about him. Something that was different. I knew he was different. It has never been easy between us, but for some reason, we’ve worked through it. We’re still together. Me, the one who never believed in love or boyfriends has had one for the past three years. Fuck!

Not that I’m complaining. Well not much really. I guess I lucked out – or got lucky whichever way you look at it – in finding Justin. We compliment each other in so many ways. Life with Justin is never boring. That’s for damn sure.

I hear Justin take a deep sigh. “School starts back up next week. I have five classes scheduled. Plus I have to get with Deb about my job at the Diner. I need to see if I still have a job, or if I have to look for another one. Plus I have to talk to Michael about Rage.” Justin informed me. I could almost see him mentally counting them off in his head. “I should try and find another therapist, but I don’t know about that yet.”

“You should,” I tell him gripping his hand tighter in mine. “You have a lot of shit going on. You should be able to talk to someone about it. Especially now that you’ve talked to your mom and … Craig.” I tell him using his ‘father’s’ real name. Neither one of us will call him anything but that. Well anything nice that is. 

“Yeah, maybe.” He says as he curls himself closer to me. It pains me that he needs the constant closeness. He won’t say anything, but I can tell that he needs something – he needs to feel connected to something… someone. I’m just grateful that it’s me he’s turning to.

Of course he knew what I did when I came back the first time from seeing him over in Italy… I don’t even want to know. I had never broken a promise before in my life… I had always prided myself on keeping my word. It was the one thing everyone could count on – my almost brutal honesty and my word. But after seeing Justin break down the night before I left, I knew that it was one promise I wouldn’t be able to keep.

So when I got off the plane, I told myself that I would just wait and see. I didn’t want to break my word, but I also know myself well enough to know that I never should have said yes to Justin. I told myself that the promise was made under duress; since I didn’t have all the facts at the time I made it. I couldn’t be held responsible if I just happened to be at the same place at the same time as that ass hole.

Sounds good right? I thought so.

I knew however, that Justin wouldn’t buy that argument. So I didn’t tell him.

It had taken me two days before I finally broke down and decided that a little confrontation was what I needed to do. Not for Justin, but for myself. Okay, so it was for Justin. I didn’t want that asshole anywhere near Justin. Plus I wanted to see for myself – ease my own mind – on how he was treating Molly.

See even though she is a little annoying, I like the twerp. She’s Justin’s sister, and she’s a hell of a lot better than Claire. I was just afraid that if he had done this to Justin, that he would try something with her. I knew that no one else would do a damn thing about it. Justin – as much as I know he would want to do something, as much as I care about him – I know that he won’t be able to deal with that crap after he comes face to face with Craig. 

No, knowing Justin the way I do… he wouldn’t be able to say much of anything after he ‘confronts’ Craig about what he remembers. Justin would not be able to handle much of anything – he’d shut down. Yeah, he’d be pissed, but it would be a complete shock to his system.

So, I did the only thing that could be done. I got into the ‘Vette, and started to follow the fucker around. I can tell you where he eats for lunch, where he goes to fuck his secretary, which sex club he goes to late at night when his live-in lover is asleep. The fucker. And everyone says that I’m an asshole. Craig Taylor is the epitome of ‘right’… bullfuckingshit. 

I did this for a week, mind you, and I decided it was time to have a little talk with the fucker. Of course talking to Justin that day made my decision to move forward a hell of a lot easier.

That was one of the most painful conversations I had ever had with him. Mainly, because I couldn’t touch him, hold him. He was so fucking far away and hurting so much. I wanted to rip Craig Taylor’s nuts off and shove them so far down his throat so I could pull them out his ass. Death was too good for him.

“Hey, how’s sunshiny Italy?” I asked him when I picked up the phone.

“It’s alright, I guess. Just finishing up the last of my projects. Keeping busy, you know.” He told me, and I knew immediately that something was wrong. “I… I can’t stop thinking about it, Bri.” 

I could hear the pain in his voice and I cursed the very existence of ‘Daddy Taylor’. “Did you remember something else?” I asked him. I knew better than try to tell him to forget it. I did that with the bashing, and I’m seeing how much of a mistake that was now. I see how much him NOT talking about that night has hurt him. Just look at why we even separated, and why things are so messed up between us now. 

Yeah, things are good, but Justin is feeling he needs to ‘take care of himself’. He thinks that he can’t depend on others to take care of him – understand him. So in a way I can understand. I’ve been there myself. We are all partly to blame for his current idea on what he needs to do. 

“Some.” I hear Justin say, and all I want to do is hold him close to me… reach across the fucking ocean and have him there in the loft, safe and sound. “But, I don’t want to think about it.”

“Justin,” I warn him. As I said… I couldn’t let him NOT think about it. I had to get him to open up, and let it out. No matter what it did to me, he had to get it all out before it destroyed him. “Tell me.”

I could almost hear Justin argue with himself on whether or not he should tell me. I could hear his breathing, and I remember wanting to reach across the phone and hold him close to me. I didn’t know what I could do, but I knew that I wanted to do SOMEDAMNTHING to try and help him.

“I remember one night. I don’t know, I was maybe… five, six. I don’t remember really. But I remember we had just come back from this dinner or something at the country club.” I heard Justin laugh slightly, I knew he was shaking his head. “I remember that there was some talk about me not being in sports, and dad kept trying to get me to try out for the club’s baseball team or something.”

I tried to break the ice a little, cause I knew where this was going. I just knew. “I could just see you out there in those tight little pants. You’re bubble butt sticking out as you bend to pick up the ball.”

”Yeah, I’m sure that would get some notice.” He said with a small laugh. “I might have gotten laid a little sooner than 17.”

“But it wouldn’t have been as good.” I tell him. And it’s true… at least that’s what my ego says. I may pretend that I don’t remember that night, but what I do remember… fuck, it was hot. It was that night that made me want more. My little nympho.

“So true.” I hear him. He sighs and lets it out slowly. “Anyway, when we got home, mom and dad started arguing. Mom kept telling him that it was okay, that just because I wasn’t in sports it didn’t mean anything. I had my art and they should be encouraging it. He kept going on and on about how it wasn’t normal.”

I could only shake my head. The whole ‘Justin isn’t normal’ crap started early. It’s something that I had never understood, you know. I don’t understand why someone would believe that you are only a man if you play sports. How many men who turn out to be some very successful ‘straight’ man without having to play sports while growing up? A hell of a lot, I’m sure.

“I went up to my room, I guess I didn’t want to hear them fight over me. I don’t really know. Maybe they told me to go up to bed. I was asleep when he came that night. He told me that I would be a man, that he wouldn’t let me embarrass him in front of his friends. He wasn’t going to have a sissy little faggot.” He laughed, the pain etched in his voice.

Justin told me how his father went on to ‘show him’ how to be a man that night. And fuck all if I didn’t want to have Craig Taylor in front of me so I could show him what being a man was. The thought of that asshole touching Justin, touching him in ways that I know he now will wither in ecstasy.. begging me to make him cum. He had made something so wonderful, so fucking hot, and turned it into something completely disgusting. 

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to show him what it was to be a man, and be embarrassed. If I could do to him what he did to Justin… 

Nahh. I don’t want to catch something.

So what’s a man supposed to do? What is a father supposed to do, when he finds out that a child is victimized? What do I do, when I find out that the one person who I have actually found out that I can be with? 

Well the only thing I can do… confront the fucker who hurt that person. I would do the same if it was Mikey, or Lindsey, or Gus. Hell, I might even do it if it was Ted… well maybe not. The point is when I made the promise, I didn’t have all the details, so I can’t be held responsible for any action that I may do. 

Right?

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. That’s all I can say.

So after following the fucker around for a while, I finally decided it was time. So when he was at that little club, bar… whatever, I knew it was my chance. If anyone ever asked me if I went to a straight strip club, I would deny it until the day I die. Me, King of Liberty fucking Avenue at a titty bar. I’d never live it down.

The things people do for… whatever you call what I feel for Justin.

Love? I don’t know, but it’s something that makes me do stupid shit.

As I made my way over to the table where dear ol’ Craig was sitting at, I tried not to vomit. Just being in a place like this makes me so glad that I like dick. I can honestly say that I had never had so many women try to get into my pants as I did just walking the few feet over to that table. It’s disgusting. 

Anyway, when I reach the table, I see Craig talking with a group of his ‘friends’, and I just stand there behind him. The idiot didn’t even know that something was wrong. He never once realized that his friends had stopped laughing at whatever he passes as a joke. Can we say stupid?

I didn’t even blink as I picked him up and slammed him down on top of the table face first. I put my forearm on his neck, while the other one is twisting his arm behind his back. I remember ignoring the screams from everyone in the damn place, cause I didn’t really care. Let them call the cops. What did I care at that moment.

“You stupid piece of shit.” I hiss into his ear. He kept trying to break free, cursing at me – damming me to hell and all that shit, but I didn’t even hear him. “You think you got away with it, don’t you? You think that Justin forgot about it? How you used to come into his room when he was a little boy? How you used to play little games with him? You touch me, I’ll touch you. I will show you how to be a man. Real men do what their daddy’s tell them. I will show you how to please someone, how someone should please you. It’s what a man should know.”

I could almost see the shocked faces on the others at the table. Luckily for them, none of them tried to stop me. I had everyone’s attention in the damn place, and I was going to let them all know what type of man they were associating with. “For years, you played your little game. You told him that that’s what little boys should do for their daddy’s. Especially if they loved them. Am I close? Do your friends know that you’re a child molester? Do they let you near their children? Do you show your affection for Molly the way you did Justin?”

I finally let the fucker up, and he looked right at me. I feel a little bit of satisfaction at the looks he was getting from his friends. “You’re lying. You don’t know a thing. I never touched Justin. I don’t know what lies you have been telling him, or what you made him believe, but you don’t know me. You’re the pedophile. You’re the disgusting piece of shit.”

I smile slightly and shake my head. “Justin was at least of age when I fucked him. I didn’t take advantage of him, or do anything to him that he didn’t want done. You on the other hand… well touching a child, doing what you did.” I moved closer to him, got right in his face. “I would never do to my son, what you did to yours. I would NEVER even THINK about something like that. You call me a pedophile, but at least I’m not a sorry sack of shit like you.”

With that I turned away and left that ‘fine’ establishment. I think my work there was done… I only wish I had been a fly on the wall after that. I sure as hell embarrassed him this time. Only it wasn’t Justin who embarrassed him. Fucker!

“What are you thinking about?” Justin asks me from his spot on my chest. 

I look down at his blue eyes as they bear into my soul. It’s like he can read my thoughts, and frankly that scares the shit out of me. Granted not as much as before, but it’s still scary knowing that someone can tell when you’re full of shit or not. “Just thinking about stuff.” I tell him. There is no way in hell I’m going to tell him that I saw Craig. That’s one secret I will never tell.

Justin only nods, knowing that I don’t want to talk about it. That’s the thing, I think I like the most about him. He knows when to drop something and when to push. Granted it may not always be what I think it should be, but it’s nice in a way. I don’t have to explain myself to him. He always knows what’s going on. How? I have no idea, but he does. “Lindsey called yesterday.” I tell him, completely changing the subject.

Or maybe not. Maybe – for me at least – finding out what an ass Craig Taylor is as a father. Maybe I realize what type of father I want to be to Gus. I never want my son to feel the way about me that ether I felt for Jack, or Justin feels about Craig. Just maybe I want to be a good father. Someone should in our fucked up family. “Her and Mel wanted to go out tonight, and wanted to know if I could watch Gus for the weekend. So what do you say? Feel up to helping me watch the kid?”

Justin smiled – the first real smile I have seen on his lips since this whole mess started. God, I have missed that smile. “A weekend with you and Gus? I don’t know… I just moved in here… I really should…”

I didn’t let him finish, I just began to attack his mouth. I know he’ll stay with me this weekend. Of that I have no doubt. Justin loves Gus, and is a much better father than I am that’s for sure. He would do anything for that kid. 

I may not be the best damn father in the world, but I know that I’m a hell of a lot better than Craig Taylor or Jack Kinney. 

It’s almost funny how – if you really think about it – both Justin and I are so fucked up in the ‘parent’ department, but yet we fathers to Gus. And yes… Justin is Gus’ other dad. It may not be official or any of that shit – may never be – but he is. In my mind he is. He’s cared for Gus, been there for my son. He’s been a father to Gus in everyway that counts. 

Love.

Justin loves Gus, and Gus sure as fuck loves Justin.

It’s a hell of a lot more then either one of us had gotten from our own old man. 

It amazes me that despite our fucked up pasts, we can still be together. Dare I say love? Hell, I don’t know. I know I have never felt this way about someone before, and I don’t ever want him to leave again. But is it love? You tell me.

All I know is that I’m going to be there for him when and if he needs me. That’s the best I can do. So many people have let him down, let me down. Maybe we need to be there for each other. Help each other feel something besides complete emptiness. Feel something besides worthlessness. 

Maybe that’s love.

If it is… I know I don’t want to change it.

If that’s love… then I’m in love with Justin. More than anyone else in my life.

If it’s not… then let me be dammed, like my mother believes I am. And in my opinion, cause you know it’s the only one that really maters – it’s jackasses like Craig and Jack who belong there. 

Cause all I know… I’m having a hell of a great time trying to figure it out.

I wonder if I could go there and make sure they suffer for all eternity. Justin and I can be in charge of hell. Yeah, that sounds right for some reason. 

Why does hell seem so much like heaven? 

Fuck if I know, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

So for a week we had a great time. Neither one of us brought up any of that shit. You can say that we ignored it, that we were in denial, but it worked for us. 

One fucking week was all we got before all hell broke loose. One week before real life came and slapped the shit out of us. 

Why can’t we ever get a damn break? 

Can anyone explain that to me?

Is it too much to ask?


	4. A New Day Has Come 2

One week of total bliss and ignorance came to a halt when we were lounging around one day. It was Sunday. Our damn day to just sit and watch TV. You know, normal shit. 

Normally we don’t answer the door, or the phone, but for some reason it seemed like we just had to answer it. Both of them actually. The knock at the door came at the same time as the phone started ringing. Something just told me to take Justin and run. Hide him from all of this shit. Fear started to build deep within me – the same fear I had when I looked into my rear view mirror and spotted the fucker Hobbs coming up behind Justin.

Justin only shrugged and got up from the couch handing me the phone as he walked over to the door. I sat there staring at the phone like it would bite me, like whatever was on the other side would completely destroy us.

Shaking off those thoughts, I pressed the button on the damn thing and put it to my ear. “Yeah?” I didn’t want to be nice. I didn’t have to dammit. Everyone knew not to bother me on Sundays… or at least they should by now.

“Brian, is Justin there? I need to talk to him now.” Daphne’s voice came across. She sounded panicked, and immediately my senses were on overload. “His dad came by here looking for him. I didn’t tell him where he was, but he’s determined to talk to Justin.”

I turned toward the door. Sure as fuck, at the door was none other than Craig Taylor himself. “Craig.” Justin said, and I saw him try to calm his nerves. His muscles were tight, and I hung up the phone to stand beside him. I knew that this wouldn’t be pretty, and if we all got out of this alive it would be amazing. 

A damn fucking miracle.

Craig looked from me to Justin, hate shinning in his eyes. Hate and disgust. Dammit! Hadn’t Justin had enough hate in his life? Hadn’t he suffered enough from that shit?

Craig immediately turned on me, and pushed me when I wouldn’t let him in. Yeah, like I would let that fucker into MY home. No way in hell. Not even over my dead body. “You! You filled his mind with lies. You turned him against his family!” he started yelling. I only stood there in front of Justin. I guess there was that part of me that wanted to protect him from the hate… from the pain I knew this would eat away at him.

Craig turned onto Justin and his eyes narrowed. “You want to destroy us? Is that it? This asshole is turning you against your family. You have made a mockery of us. You know how it was, Justin. You know that his lies aren’t true. How can you do this to us?”

See the thing about Justin that not many people know is that the kid has a temper. I’ve been subjected to it more times than not, in all honesty. I don’t know what it is, but he has this knack at making you feel about two inches tall. He will bring in all the shit you did and shove it in your face. He has a memory like an elephant, and God forbid if you forgot to put the coffee cup in the dishwasher like 10 years ago. Nothing is forbidden when he gets angry. 

Everyone thinks that he’s this little angel. Ha! They don’t know him very well. The damn kid’s a fucking rotwiller, and pit-bull mix. He latches on and won’t let go. You’ll find yourself in complete shreds before you even know what hit you. That’s Justin.

“I’m destroying you? I’ve turned against the family? Fuck you! You’re the one who did it … Dad.” I could hear the venom in his voice at the one word. It was poisonous to us… like acid. “You are the one who destroyed us, you’re the one who destroyed me! How dare you fucking come into MY home … into my lover’s home and say anything!”

I placed my hand on his shoulder, and I was grateful in a way that he didn’t shake it off. I think he knew what my intention was, and thank God he understood. I was trying to stop him. Not that I could even if I wanted to. No, I wanted to let him know that I was there if he needed me. He’s strong, but I know that this meeting alone will tear at him from the inside out. His last meeting with his father didn’t turn out well… his father hadn’t him say a word, but I saw the affect it had on him.

Hell, how could I not? I was the one who held him after his meeting with this asshole last time. I was the one who’s shoulder he cried on. I was the one who watched as his cherished memories of a happy childhood shattered at his feet. ME!

The last time… the last time he didn’t want to feel anything. I remember looking at him when he came back. I knew immediately what he had done, even though I told him not to. I had told him to wait for me… to let me go with him, but the little shit didn’t. 

Are we surprised? I’m not. He never listens.

I knew immediately where he went when he rushed into the bathroom and the shower started. I knew right away how the confrontation went. So I did the only thing I knew how to make it better… I just held him as he began to shake. The hot water couldn’t warm him up… couldn’t take away the cold that had seeped into his very soul. “You know, there was a part of me that wished – fucking prayed that it wasn’t true. A part of me that didn’t want to believe that he could do that… I’m such a fool. Wanting to believe something… wanting to believe that the father I thought I knew wasn’t some sick fucking bastard.” The pain I heard in his voice made me hate the fucker even more. And I didn’t think that that was possible, but I found out that I could. I could almost feel the anxiety attack start to take hold of his body, so I started to massage his neck, wanting to stop it before it started.

“He never once admitted it… but you could tell. The look in his eyes. Like a deer caught in the headlights… then switching between guilt and anger. Although he denied it – rather quickly I might add.” He laughed at that. I don’t know how he could laugh at it… but he did. Yeah, death was too good for Craig Taylor. “I could tell. His words were lies… he really did do it.” 

Justin turned around and I swear that my heart stopped in my chest, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. His eyes. The pain and hurt – hell the complete and total destruction – almost killed me. “The thing is… he’s not sorry about it. That’s what scares me. He’s not sorry he did that to me, he’s sorry he got caught. He’s sorry that I’m gay… that I’m not like him. He’s sorry that I am not the ‘perfect son’. Fucking asshole!” I could only wrap my arms around him and hold him close as he tried to bury himself in me. As his tears fell, I wanted to rip myself open and pull him into me so that he would never be hurt again. It’s impossible, but I wanted to. “Everything I believed… my whole life was a fucking lie, Brian. I don’t understand. It was all just one big fat fucking lie… and I don’t know why.”   
I have no idea what I would… could say to help him come to terms with this whole mess. 

What I’m sure would shock the hell out of everyone is that even though I had taken him to bed after that… we just slept. Okay, so I held him as he fell asleep in my arms. It wasn’t about sex, it was about holding each other afloat. It was about keeping each other from drowning in self pity and whatnot. Feeling connected to each other, despite the fact that there is flesh separating us.

Now, here the fucker was – once again trying to destroy what sanity that Justin has. Trying to destroy the damn peace that we had this past week. Death is entirely too good for him. How much flesh can he take? How much pain can one person endure?

Justin, however, is giving as well as he can take. It’s almost like someone lit a fire under him. I can feel the tension beneath his clothes, as if he was ready to strike. At this moment, Justin reminds me of some wounded animal. 

“The thing is … Dad. You have no fucking idea who I am. You have no clue what I have done for the family. You’re the one who has destroyed us. YOU! You’re the one who raped me. I couldn’t do a damn thing!” I kept my hand on his shoulder, the last thing we needed was a fist fight going on in my living room. Of course, there is no doubt in my mind that I might be the one who throws the first punch, but I’ll at least pretend to be the good citizen and try. 

Me… a good citizen. What a fucking joke.

“He is the one who’s been telling you lies, Justin. You know me. How can you hurt your family like this?” Craig asked Justin stepping into the loft a little. Immediately I move forward a step or two to block him. I don’t want that piece of shit to taint my home. Fuck that shit. 

Justin pulled on my arm, and looked at me. I could see the statement in his eyes. He practically was begging me to let him handle this on his own. Last time I had seen that look it was when we had seen that fucker Hobbs on the street outside of Woodys. So can you understand why I might be reluctant to let him handle this on his own? 

Justin always feels he has to take care of things alone. His tuition… Hobbs, his father… fuck practically everything. I don’t know a damn thing in that list that has turned out good. Somehow his ‘fix’ ends up making things worse. Justin has a habit of making some very bad decisions. Hell, if I wasn’t there to point them out to him, to try and work it out for him, then he’d be fucked up even more… he might even be dead. I don’t think that he will ever realize that, but I’ll just do what I have to, and make things right. 

It’s the least I can do. Of course I won’t let him know I’m doing it. He’d throw a fit.

“Just get out. Get out of my home. I don’t ever want to see you again, I don’t ever want to hear about you. Ever. Do you hear me? Ever.” Justin quietly stated. Even though his voice was quiet you could hear the pain and anger hidden beneath the surface. You could hear the threat that he was giving. I saw Craig turn to leave, and I can’t say that I’m sorry. I don’t want the man contaminating the loft. “By the way,” Justin began. I was sort of surprised, I had honestly thought he was done with the whole mess. I saw the asshole turn around and the hate in his eyes bore into me. Figures he would blame me. I’m the bad one… fuck that. “If I ever find out that you touched Molly. If I ever hear that you tried to do to her what you did to me… You’ll find out just how much of a man I am. I will NOT hesitate. I won’t feel sorry.” 

I wasn’t sure exactly what Justin meant. Did he mean that he would hurt Craig, or that he would kill him? In all truthfulness, I am not sure even I want to know. Luckily for Craig, he knew well enough to leave it all alone. 

Okay, I’ll admit it… Justin scares me sometimes. He really does. Why, you ask? Simple, he doesn’t know how to cope. He doesn’t realize where his strength lies… he doesn’t know where to vent his anger. He just lashes out. I know, I’m one to talk… I’ve never been good at relieving stress, or anger. Where Justin lashes out, I internalize. Oh he tries to just internalize things, I can tell. The only problem with that is, he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to let things go.

Hell, look at me. He got me didn’t he?

But it’s the bad shit. Hobbs, his father… Ethan, hell, even me. Justin doesn’t talk about things… he pretends that everything is okay. He just doesn’t know what to do with it once he puts it ‘in it’s place’. He lets it fester until he can’t even think straight. He lets it consume him. I just don’t know what to do to help him, to make him understand that because of who he is… he can’t do that.

He’s brave as fuck – Justin is. He’s not afraid to show people who he is… he’s not ashamed. He’ll shove it in your face, and not even think of the consequences. Hobbs outside Woody’s that night so long ago comes to mind. Justin just didn’t think of the consequences of that, and look how that turned out. Kip is another. He could have been seriously hurt, fucked it all up for the both of us. In that case he got lucky… I just don’t know how long it will last. His luck I mean.

The other problem I see? Justin has always been open. He always wore his heart on his sleeve – his emotions, thoughts, so on – were always right there for everyone to see. Yeah, a part of me is happy that he’s gotten over that, but the other part…

He’s just not complete. I don’t know if he ever will be. I know that his past made him who he is. He came from a loving family, rich family. He was everything that I hated as a child. We always – the guys and I – would joke about Justin’s country-club upbringing. Hell, he showed us all up when we were prepping Mikey for his date with the dear ol’ doc. But now… hell now I know that it wasn’t all that hallmark shit.

Justin turns around and gives me a weak smile after the door closes. He’s hurting, no doubt about that. I only wish I knew what to say, what to do. Since nothing even close comes to mind to fix this… I do the only thing I know. “Come here.” I tell him. Simple, easy. 

So what? Okay, I’m an asshole. What do you expect? So sex is the only thing I can think of that might ease the tension in him. I’m not one for talking, never have never will. So I fall back on what I do know. Make him feel something – hell anything – besides pain, besides betrayal. It’s what I do, what I know.

Lucky for the both of us, it works.

The only down side… is that it is only temporary. If I could find a way to keep the sex up 24/7 and still make a living… I would. I sure a fuck wouldn’t complain about it. But it’s impossible. 

So we’ll deal, as we always do. Deal with the shit later. Right now… he needs something that only I can give him. And I’m not being egotistical about it… I’m being truthful. Justin and I both… we get things from each other that we can’t get anywhere else. I learned that. I learned that life is better when he’s around. Sex sure as fuck is better. No one can make me feel the way Justin does. No one can do the things that Justin can.

So do I worry about him? Hell, the fuck yes. He will try and conquer the world… stand up for what he believes in, but he just doesn’t know how to deal with all the shit after it. Not that what his dad did to him was his fault, it wasn’t. But he stands there and acts like it isn’t killing him, that it isn’t just ripping him apart at the seams.

How do I fix things? How do I get him the help he needs when I’m so against that type of shit?

Yeah, I’ll just tell him to go see a shrink. I can hear his response now… ‘fuck no!’ He would say that shit about how I would never go, and I think that they are just overprices jackasses who don’t know a damn thing about anything. Which in a way is true. I don’t believe that they can really help anyone. All they do is sit behind their desks or whatever and make YOU work through your own shit. Oh well that and they like to give you drugs. Yeah, like that does any good. Trust me I know all about that type of shit.

So I am the LAST person who should be preaching about how drugs do nothing to help you. Me? Fuck that. Just like sex… it’s a temporary fix at best. 

Despite what everyone thinks, I can’t fix everything… I don’t believe I can. They all think that I’m some sort of fucking god or something. That all I have to do is wave my magic fucking wand and everything is better. Hell, if that was true, my life would have been a lot different. But I’m not, and I can’t. If there is one thing I have learned is that there are times when someone needs to handle things themselves. They need to deal with shit without any outside interference.

They need to feel like they accomplished something. Like they got past something that would have destroyed anyone else. 

Here’s the real deal. Justin feels like he has to be strong, that he can’t show weakness. I know this, and honestly, it’s part of what I … like about him, and it’s also the part that could destroy him. He thinks that he needs to be strong, partly because I’m such an emotional wreck. I know this, and we deal with it. I don’t think I can change, despite the fact that I’m trying to be a little more open about things. But you can’t just erase 30 years of shit… it’s not possible.

So he’s trying to be strong for me. And it isn’t just for me. I can see it. He’s doing it for Deb, Emmett, Linds and Mel, Ted, Mikey… his sister, so on and so forth. It seems like he’s trying to be strong for every damn fag out there that isn’t. It’s bullshit, but that’s the way he acts at times. Maybe it’s our fault. Maybe our joking about him being the ‘poster child for gays’ was wrong. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past him to have taken it to heart. He hates to lose, to look weak. 

The little shit is worse than me.

I have tried to teach him that a man knows when to ask for help, but he just won’t listen to it. He bitches that I won’t ask for help, and I want to be in charge, but he’s worse than me. He thinks it makes him weak… that it will make him look like a ‘kept-boy’. He knows I hate being called a sugar daddy, but I don’t look at this situation as that. He says that he wants to be partners, and he wants to be equal partners. But he very damn well can’t pay half of everything, so I don’t give a rat’s ass about paying for everything. When he’s rich and some famous painter in the future, he’ll pay me back. 

I’m looking forward to doing nothing and living off of his earnings. Hell, I think I would enjoy lapping in luxury, and not doing a damn thing. 

Did I just think that? Did I just go ahead and plan a future for us? Fuck, I am worse off than I thought. 

I know that I like Justin… more than I had ever liked anyone. I don’t know if it’s really love, or whatever, but I do know that I don’t want him to be gone. I like waking up with him every morning, I like sharing a bed with him. I know I was a mess when he wasn’t here. I like getting into debates about the oddest things, and have adult, informed conversation about current events and the market. So does that mean that I love him? 

If it does, than I guess I love him. 

See I can admit it, I’m not a total ass. I’m not totally emotionally crippled. Just don’t ever ask me to say it to his face. It’s one thing to admit it to myself, it’s another thing completely to give that power to someone else. To let someone have that type of hold over you.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that.

So call me an ass, he knows. He knows how I feel about him, and how I want him around. It’s the best I can do. 

Lucky for me he understands. He says he understands where he stands, and I know he does.

Now the question comes in… where does he stand? 

Now there’s another thing… His mother. I don’t know what Justin would do about her. Personally, I would let her rot. I thought my mother was worthless in standing by with a bible in hand as Jack beat the shit out of me. His mother went and let Craig molest him. That is beyond anything I had ever … could ever imagine. 

I still can’t believe that she would sit there and basically call Justin a liar. With all of her WASP crap in full force, telling him that his ‘daddy’ would never do anything like that. I think Justin was right in telling her that if it was his sister that she would do something about it. But since it was Justin, a fag, it didn’t matter. Yeah, Jenn is an okay mother. She had stood up for him when he needed her in recent years, but she wasn’t there when he COULDN’T defend himself. Marching in Pride Parades, and making sure that he gets the help he needs – namely me – after the bashing doesn’t constitute a good mother. She wasn’t there for him when he really needed her, and now look how things turned out. 

Her and dear ol’ Joanie would get along great. Maybe they could start their own little group. Fucking bitches.

So with all this shit… I’m left to deal with what remains of Justin. I am the one who has to help him pick up the pieces. ME!

It’s not like anyone else would do it. Not Deb, not Linds, no one. Me. 

Question is… am I ready to deal with it? Can I actually be there for him when he needs me?

I want to say yes, but I’m not 100% sure. I can’t make any guarantees. I do know that I HAVE to get him in to see someone. He needs someone to talk to, someone who has the ability to get him to open up. Especially since he won’t tell me anything – not since that night really. 

He’s been sealed-lip about the whole thing. I was amazed that I was able to get that much out of him to begin with, and now I can’t get anything else out of him. He has to talk to someone about it… since he won’t tell me shit. 

Blame him? 

No, never. I can’t. 

This is one thing that I know I can’t do. I can’t force him to trust me… either he does or he doesn’t. I can’t make him.

So I have to grit my teeth, and force him to do something I know will hurt him.

I only hope that it will end up helping him as well. 

I only hope it doesn’t destroy him… and us.

Why the fuck can’t life be easy for once?


	5. A New Day Has Come 2

“You have got to fucking be kidding me.” Justin yelled. I watched as he stood up from his spot on the couch in the loft, and I knew I had to try to come up with something. It had been two days since that asshole Craig came over, and Justin had been spending quite a bit of time over here. I had been thinking of a way to try and get him to go see someone about this shit. Finally when I mentioned it, when I thought he would be agreeable, he fucking blew up at me. 

And here I thought he would agree since he had been to see one over there in Europe. “Actually, no. I’m not kidding. And what the fuck is the problem? You didn’t have a problem seeing one over there in Italy.” I asked, putting my previous thoughts into words. 

Justin stared at me, and I swear that there is steam coming out of his ears. “That’s different.” 

I sat back in the chair, and looked at him. All I could do was roll my eyes. Of course… it’s different. It’s always fucking different when it’s your idea. Why do I do this shit to myself? Why do I put myself in these damn situations? “It’s different… how?”

“You don’t understand. I went to see Mark to get my memories back. Well I have them now… I don’t need to see anyone anymore.” He explained, and in all honesty it made absolutely no fucking sense to me. I think he gets the idea that I think he’s full of shit cause he just raised his arms and dropped them to his side. See, two can play this little game, Sonnyboy. “Look, I don’t need someone to tell me I’m fucked up, okay? I already know that. My father’s an asshole, my mother… fuck who knows what’s up with her?. I am having a hard time coming to grips with it… I’m just overall, totally, and completely fucked up! See, I know this already. Why have someone sit there and tell me that it will take time to get past this, that I will get past this… when I already fucking know that!?”

Running my hands over my face, I could only imagine that this is what my life will be like when Gus gets older. Oh I don’t know… say FIVE! Justin was acting like a little kid, and it was beginning to piss me off. “You’re going, and that’s the end of it.”

Justin stared at me in disbelief. Like he actually thinks that I can’t make him go. Yeah right! What world does he live in? If I have to I will hog-tie him and dump his ass in the damn doctor’s office myself. I’ll even stay there to make sure he doesn’t leave. Maybe that’s the ticket. I think I just may have found the way to get him to go… the only scary part is that I actually have to be an active participant in this whole little drama. Like I’m not already?

Fuck me.

That was last night. When we could have been fucking our brains out… we were fighting. I can only guess that he’s pissed at me… that’s why he didn’t stay the night. Now, I’m standing in front of his and Daphne’s small fucking apartment, waiting for someone to get their asses (ass) out of bed and answer the door. When it does open, I see a blurry-eyed Daphne. “I don’t know what happened, but please get him out of here before I kill him.” She said opening the door. “He’s been in this really pissy mood all night long, and I’m about ready to strangle him.”

Great. Just fucking great. 

I make my way over to his room and try the handle. “Justin, open the fucking door.”

“Go away. I don’t want to see you right now.” I hear coming from inside the room. Well too bad, cause he’s getting his ass out of there, cause we have a fucking appointment downtown. Luckily, Daphne handed me a small screwdriver, and showed me how to get past the damn lock. Fuck… I never knew getting past some of these locks were this easy. Just pressing one little button on your side… and voila you’re in. “Brian! Daph! God!”

“Get dressed… we have places to be.” I tell him throwing some clothes to him. I stand there and watch him start to get his pants on. I know that if I don’t get him to go, he won’t. He’s such a fucking drama queen that it’s unbelievable. Sweet, kind, cute, quiet Justin. HA! He has everyone fooled. Well everyone but me and Daphne, I guess. 

I have to practically drag him out of the damn apartment and out to the ‘Vette. He’s sulking like Gus does when he doesn’t get what he wants. And here I thought I was seeing an adult. I know that he doesn’t want to do this, I know all right? But dammit, he needs some help. When we get to the office, I have to pull him out of the car, and I just watch him as we make our way up in the elevator. “Will you stop, already? It’s not that bad.”

“You did this without my approval, without my consent. How the fuck do you think I should feel, Brian? How would you feel if I ever did this to you?” he asks still sulking against the far wall of the elevator. 

The door opens and I follow him out of it and down the hall. “9:30 for Justin Taylor.” I tell the receptionist. I can see the look on her face, and I know exactly what she is thinking. She’s wondering how quickly she can call 911, cause if Justin’s posture is any indication, we might have a problem. We sit down in the waiting room to wait. “Look, I’ll be in there with you, and you know how much I want to do this. But it needs to be done.” I tell him. 

“You had no right, Brian.” He huffs. I can only roll my eyes and I look down at the magazine I picked up. It seems like hours before we get called back, and I just sit down in one of the chairs in front of the doctor. I had already filled them in that this wasn’t something that might be well received by the party, and that I would be there. The doctor… yes, a referral from my ex-trick – said that it would be up to Justin, ultimately, since he was the one who needed the help. 

Justin only sits there in a defensive posture, and I can already feel the headache coming on. “I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t’ even want to be here.” He explains to the doctor.

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to be here, Justin. If you want to leave I can’t stop you.” What the fuck!? Okay… now I’m paying good damn money for this, I am not going to let this fucker let him walk out. “But…I think that deep down you want to talk about whatever is bothering you. Don’t you? Don’t you want to get past this?”

“Get past what? So my father molested me, my entire past is gone… my family, everything. I was bashed in the head with a baseball bat. I already covered this before with someone else… I’m fine with it. So if I can go…” Justin states as he begins to stand.

“Justin.” I begin.

The doc holds up his hand and stops me from saying anything. I have to literally bite my lip. “How about you tell me why you don’t need to talk to someone? Why do you think you don’t need to be here? Evidentially your lover thinks you need help. Why do you think that is?”

I think I did good… I didn’t cringe at that word. Lover. I sit back in the chair and watch as Justin sits back down and shrugs. “Okay, look. I was seeing someone when I was over in Europe. I did regression therapy, and look where it got me. I went for one thing, and got something totally different in return. Why the hell do you think I would want to have someone else fuck with my head?!” He asked in a raised voice.

And now I get the truth as to why he didn’t want to come here. I had never thought that he wouldn’t want to come because of his past experience with these type (types) of guys. They say ignorance is bliss, and Justin and I are just now finding out what that really means. I was ignorant enough to think that he just didn’t want to talk about it with me… and didn’t want to have someone else involved. I honestly thought that he just wanted to handle it on his own. I never thought that he would feel betrayed by shrinks. I can understand it… but it never registered. 

And Justin… he was ignorant to this whole mess. He didn’t know what his father did to him. He was happy in that bliss. Now, all that shit comes out, and he’s miserable. I turn my attention back to what he’s saying… this is something that I don’t want to miss. “Oh, and let’s not forget about the first shrink I saw, who wanted to ‘fix’ me of my ‘gayness’. Yeah, that was a classic. As for Brian… he thinks that everything needs to be fixed. He doesn’t understand that there are some things that can’t be fixed. So he has to try and interfere where he doesn’t belong, because everyone should be happy but him. Ask him about his psychological problems. If anyone is in need of a shrink it’s him.” 

Ouch. Can’t say that I didn’t deserve that one. “This isn’t about me.” I tell him looking right at him. “This is about you, and your inability to handle this. You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t see you get out of bed every fucking night, and just stare out the window for hours? You think that I don’t see you crying? That I don’t see the pain your in every fucking second of the day?” I lean forward in my chair to look him right in the eye. “Do you want to end up like me?”

“What an unfeeling asshole?” He retorts. Little shit.

I lean back and put my hands behind my head. “Guess it takes one to know one, doesn’t it, Sonnyboy?” 

“Justin?” the doc asks getting us back to the matter at hand. I don’t know who won that round, but I do take pleasure in the fact that I just proved to the doctor that Justin needs help. Justin showed that he was angry… and I can’t blame him, but he did show that he is NOT handling it as well as he likes to think he is.

Justin takes a deep breath, and I can almost see the fight go right out of him. He knows I’m right, he knows that he needs help. It’s just getting him to accept it. I remember trying to get him to accept my paying for his college. I’m thrilled that he feels he has to take care of his own problems, cause I’ve got enough shit to deal with. I like people who can take care of themselves – it’s one of the things that attracted me to Justin in the first place… okay so it’s one of the things that kept me coming back. But he needs to learn that there are times when he doesn’t have to be strong, when he doesn’t have to take care of things on his own. 

“I don’t know what you can do. It’s not like you can erase it… make it not happen. It’s not like you can make everything all better, and give me my childhood back.” Justin quietly said from his seat. Hearing the slight defeat in his voice scares the hell out of me. I hate to think that THIS may have been the thing to break him. No… he’s stronger than this. I know he is. “You can’t fix it.”

“I’m not here to fix things, Justin. That’s not my job. I want to help you come to terms with it. Maybe help you get some peace. That’s what I would like to do.” The doc explained.

Here’s a question… why does Justin always feel that everyone is trying to fix things? He’s stuck on that damn word. He said that to me back in Europe, and it just keeps popping up. All I know is that I am getting so sick and fucking tired of this shit. I am getting tired of him thinking that he can’t rely on people, that he’s a liability to others. To me! Yeah… he’s a pain in the ass, but he’s MY pain in the ass. 

If I were honest with myself I would openly admit that I don’t mind it at all. 

So for the next 45 minutes, I just sit there. I sit there and listen. Justin’s still going on and on about how he doesn’t need to do this, how he just KNOWS that the guy can’t help him. I know I’m going to get shit for this in the coming days, but I’ll be damned if I sit there and let him tear himself up over this. I won’t let him be destroyed by this. And if he gets pissed at me, then so be it. 

I know what he needs, and I’m going to make sure he gets it. One way or the other.

He’s completely silent as we walk out of the office, and I set up another appointment for him in a couple of days. By the time we reach the ‘vette, I’ve had it with his silent treatment. “Where to?” I ask, hoping that he will say something. Getting his responding shrug further pisses me off, so I figure what the hell. We’re going to the damn loft and he can blow up at me all he fucking wants. He can’t keep it all bottled up inside. I can’t let him become me. 

That’s why we get along so well, why we have lasted as long as we have. We compliment each other. Where I’m closed off, he isn’t… where I don’t talk, he does. We need to get that back cause I sure as hell can’t handle two uncommunicative assholes in this relationship. It will be gone before we even start.

Once we get in and close the door to the loft, I head directly toward the refrigerator and grab some water. Handing him a bottle, I just stand there and look at him. “Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Don’t fucking ‘what’ me, you know what I’m talking about. You’re pissed, you think that I’m interfering… go ahead. I’m waiting.” I tell him. I just want to get this damn drama over with since I know that it will happen.

Justin shrugs and takes off his jacket. “If you already know, then why should I say anything. Yes, I’m pissed. Yes, you had no right to interfere. So what do you want me to say?”

“Can we just get this shit over with… I have other things to do.” I tell him as we both sit down on the couch. It’s almost like the damn great divide is between us. “Look, I’m not going to apologize for dragging your sorry ass over there. It was the right thing to do, and it needed to be done. So don’t expect me to be sorry about it, cause I’m not. Just get over it and we’ll move on from here.”

Justin only held the bottle between his hands, and stared down at it. “It’s not so much that you felt you had to do this… there are arguments on both sides to that. So I’m not even going to go there. It’s the fact that you took it upon yourself without asking me. This is my life, Brian. My life, not yours. My problems… my … my fucking life! I thought we agreed that I would deal with this. My own way.”

“Yeah, you’re doing a bang up job on that one.” I tell him. This argument… whatever is worthless. “If, as you say, we’re in a relationship,” I begin trying not to cringe at saying the word. Do I think that we’re in one? Yes, I do. What else can you call this… but admitting it? I don’t like putting a name to this between us, so I know I will cringe every fucking time. “If we’re in a relationship, then that means partners of said relationship – and correct me if I’m wrong – but it’s my understanding that they help each other out. They do what’s best for each other, even if the other person doesn’t always agree. Am I right?”

I can see the struggle within Justin’s mind. He’s upset that I did this, but with me playing the ‘relationship’ and ‘partners’ card that just makes him swoon. What a couple of little words can do? Who would have ever thought that my life could have been a hell of a lot easier IF I had just said a couple of BS words? 

Granted they’re not really BS words now are they? I fully believe that we are partners, that he is my equal in practically every way. I only wish that he could see that. I don’t know what I can do to convince him, since it’s such a hard concept for me to even swallow. So me making some grand gesture, or something like that just isn’t in me. I just don’t know what I can do to convince him. I try with what I have… actions. I can’t say the words he wants, even if I do feel it. I just can’t put what I feel for him into words. 

Maybe one day I can make him understand that.

“And if, as you say, we’re in a relationship…” Justin began. “Then you should know that partners don’t just do stuff without the other’s knowledge. Decisions need to be made together, especially if it effects one of said partners.” He informed me in a no-nonsense tone. 

Have I told you lately what a little shit he is?

What can I say to that? I thought I had him on that whole partners shit, but he just throws the same damn thing right back into my face. See what I mean when I say that we’re prefect for each other.

“But if it harms the other party, or you know that it will do more damage in the long run if it’s left unattended then it’s the responsibility of the other partner to do something about it.” I challenge.

What can I say? At least it’s a civil conversation. Granted this talking about it in third… forth, whatever person is really messed up, but hey… who ever said we were normal?

Question… as stupid as it may seem. Why the hell are we talking in third person? I know it’s easier on me, easier for me to handle… but this is Justin. He’s supposed to talk about this shit… he’s the one who has all those romantic tendencies. 

Just another thing that proves my point that he needs help.

“Point taken, but I know that personally I would like to be informed before you once again go off and try to run my life. I am a grown man, Brian. I can make my own decisions. I have been doing it for a couple of years now. I don’t need another father.” He stated, shaking his head.

“I’m not trying to be your father!” I yell at him. How fucking dare he even think about putting me in the same damn class as that asshole?! “I’m trying to be a partner… the shit you wanted.”

Justin leans back on the couch, and all I can think about is shaking some fucking sense into him. How dare he even think that shit? “Brian, that’s not what I mean. I … Maybe I don’t know what I mean. At times I wonder if it would be easier on the both of us if we weren’t … what we are.”

“You’ve got to fucking be kidding me!” I state jumping up from the couch. Now I know for certain that he’s lost it. “So just because things aren’t perfect, we’re done? Is that it? You bitch about me doing things behind your back, but yet you decide for the two of us that it’s over?” I walk over to the kitchen and pull out the bottle of JB. For some reason I know that I will need a hell of a lot of this shit. “It’s just like the whole fucking Ethan thing… you decide what’s right. Bullshit!”

“I thought we had covered that. I thought you were okay with that.” He quietly says, and I have to strain to hear him. “I made a mistake in trying to force you into something you weren’t ready for. I can only say I’m sorry so many times!”

I have to sit down. I really fucking do. We’re getting into dangerous territory – things we never talked about before, and I sure as fuck am not ready to talk about it. I am a firm believer that the past should just fucking stay in the past. Why dig up all the old shit, when there is not a damn thing that you can do about it now? “Look, forget it.”

I down a glass as he stands from the couch. I can only silently watch as he starts to make his way over to the door. I want to ask him where he’s going… I want him to get some damn sense, but I only keep silent. “I’m not leaving… I just need to take a quick walk.” He says answering my silent question. I breathe a quick sigh of relief, as he closes the door behind him.

One thing that makes me angry – and I really should fault him for this – is that he has a tendency of walking away. Where I internalize everything he makes this grand gesture and storms out. Yeah, we both need to work on that short of shit, but dammit at least I’m not the only one. I’m not the only one who is fucked up in this ‘relationship’.

Why did I ever pick a damn kid to be my partner? I must have been insane… or too damn stoned, drunk, whatever to even care.

All I know is that I think I’m the one who needs to see a shrink, cause I have truly lost my fucking mind.

Damn teenagers.


	6. A New Day Has Come 2

His walk took six hours. Six fucking hours! What could he have been doing in six hours? Wait… I’m not sure I really want to know. 

Maybe I like to be in denial. Maybe I like to think that Justin doesn’t fuck other guys. Call me arrogant, a complete ass, whatever, but I don’t want him to fuck around. So what if I do? I’m older and more fucked up. 

Is that messed up thinking? Hell, yeah. I know it is, but what about it? 

So am I worried that he maybe falling into the same routine I have? Is he turning into me? 

I know he was when he came to live with me after he got out of the hospital. I knew what he was doing. I’m not stupid. He did everything I wanted without question ‘cause he thought it was the only way to keep me. I knew he tired of it quickly, and he realized that it wasn’t him. I’m glad, in all honesty. 

Justin isn’t me. He never will be me, and I sure as hell don’t want him to be. I want him to challenge me, talk to me for Christ sake. I want the man who will continue to help me break down my walls. 

Yes, I just said that, and it’s true. So don’t look at me that way. 

Justin is still like that – for the most part. I believe he got it back when he was in Europe. But he got a hell of a lot more too. More shit than he ever wanted or fucking needed, that’s for sure. The light just doesn’t shine as bright in his eyes anymore. He pretends more now than I think he ever did before. It’s frightening. It kills me to see him in pain – always has, always will. 

If I can do something to get the old Justin back I will. 

Okay, so maybe I don’t want the OLD one back. I want this new one… the more mature and sure Justin. But I want that old light back and shining bright again. The damn blinding light that used to warm my life. 

Corny as hell, I know. 

Each time I think about it, I want to kill Craig Taylor all over again. Torture his scrawny ass until he’s screaming in agony. I want him to feel a fraction – no let me correct that – a hundred times the amount of pain Justin in feeling every damn second of the day. 

So back to my original question. Am I afraid that he is turning into me? I hope to God not. I think he might be, in part, but I also like to think that eh won’t. It’s not Justin. It will destroy him like it never could me. 

If he wants it occasionally, who am I to stop him? As long as it’s for the right reasons that is. 

As long as he’s doing it NOT to hide his pain, but for the hell of it, I’m okay with it. 

Mostly okay with it, anyway. I don’t have to like it. 

So when Justin came back, we really didn’t talk. I know, I damn well know, but give me a break here. I didn’t know what to say. We did what we do best in these times… fuck. We fucked then he asked me to take him back to Daphne’s. 

Not home… to Daphne’s. 

Damn kid is so fucked up he can’t call a place home. He feels like he doesn’t have one. Yeah, partly my fault. He’s been bounced around like a damn Ping-Pong for years now. Shuffled from place to place at other’s whim. 

Yeah, yeah… Evil Kinney. But at least for a while he felt like he had a home. I’m sure he did. If not with me, then with Deb. 

Okay so maybe not. With me it was always My stuff, MY loft. I gave him a damn corner. I wasn’t ready then, but I’m getting there. And it’s not like he stayed in that corner either. Hell no. I mean the number of times I would sit on a damn book or find sketches all over the loft should mean something. Right? 

But I tried. That’s the point. 

Okay… so maybe bringing guys back to the loft to fuck in front of him wasn’t the brightest idea I had… and maybe, just maybe it was in bad taste. But I still wanted to show him – hell show everyone – that I was still me. That the loft was my home. 

Go ahead and say it. I’m an ass. 

Deb’s. well he felt like he was welcome and a part of the family – A family. Especially with Deb’s rules and taking care of Vic. But I know that Mikey didn’t help with him feeling like it was a home too much. Not with Mikey always being quick to remind Justin that it was HIS room. HIS stuff… HIS life, HIS family. 

Fuck! It’s no wonder why Justin feels like he doesn’t have a home. How could Justin feel like it was home? He never had something that was his. It was always someone else’s. 

Now the one memory he had of a home is gone. Destroyed by memories of a father who ruined his childhood. 

So I’m working out my issues, I guess. I’m trying got get past my reluctance to let him be a part of my life, and I’m not only talking about sexually, emotionally, or intellectually. I’m talking about physically, and financially. I’m talking about the whole nine fucking yards. I have to get past my hold-ups on the idea of sharing and really learn what a partner really is. 

The thing is… I want to. I want to give him that. He’s given me so much, opened me up so much. I want to give some of that back to him. 

Yeah, mark it on your calendar… I’ve turned into a dyke. 

If it wasn’t for Justin, however, I know I never would have been a father to Gus. And Gus is the… no one of the best damn things in my life. He’s helped me experience it, and realize that I can be a good father. I don’t’ have to be Jack Kinney. I can be my own person and I can treat a child like he should be treated. I can be me. 

I just have to find a way to give some of it back. 

I know one thing that would make the light shine again. That will bring the ‘sunshine’ back. But I don’t know if I will ever be able to tell him, at least not with words. 

Do I love Justin? Yes. 

Am I in love with Justin? Yes 

Is he my partner in every way? Yes. 

Do I want him around for when I grow old and gray? Yuck, but yes. 

So why can’t I tell him? 

Jack and Joanie. Seeing Jack come in after a night of cheating with flowers and pretty words only to beat the shit out of us later make the sentiments worthless. Why say it when you fuck it up within two minutes? When you are only doing and saying it because that’s what couples do? 

Why say it when words don’t mean shit and you only regret them later? 

I will never do that to Justin. I have and always will be honest with him. I can’t say the words when I am not sure how long we have, or how long he will stick around. There won’t be enough of me left to sweep up if that happens. I can’t do that to him, or to me. 

So I do the only thing I can. I show him. Actions, gestures. Like taking him to the shrink. It was my way of showing him that I love him. That I want to help him help himself. I’m not trying to run his life – like he seems to think right now. I’m trying to help US. 

We sure as hell can’t have two fucked up people in this relationship. 

Once again, I didn’t see Justin for another day. At least until I went to pick him up for his appointment. The damn doc wanted to meet with us separately this time, which for the most part I don’t have a problem with… well except for the part where I can’t be there for Justin. Okay so that and the fact that I just LOATH having someone else tell me I’m fucked up. So Justin went in first, and I was left alone with a damn receptionist who was trying to pick me up, and boring, breeder magazines. Why can’t these places have something that is interesting at least? 

When Justin came out about a half hour later, he looked tired. Dead tired. I tried to see if he wanted to go home, and I would meet him back there, but he only shook his head. That a positive sign I think. At least he’s not wanting to shut me out, at least he’s wanting to have me there for him. That should count for something, I guess. 

So I walk in, and already I’m cursing this whole relationship thing. I never wanted to be psychoanalyzed. That is not my goal in life. I know I’m fucked up, why have someone tell me I am. Right? 

Granted that’s the same argument Justin tried to use two days ago, and if I wouldn’t let it fly with him, I guess I need to suck it up and just deal. Fuck! I hate relationships. It explains why I never was in one before. 

He was a little more open this time – and that’s to say at least he didn’t try to kill me this time. I just don’t know what to do with him half of the time. I really fucking don’t. “Brian. Have a seat.” The doc tells me as I sit down across from him. I know that my posture is standoffish, but I don’t really give a damn. I’m only here for Justin… not me. “I think we should begin with why you want Justin to come here. Why you think it’s necessary for him to come.” 

I roll my tongue into my cheek and just stare at him. He’s got to be crazy. “I think that it’s pretty obvious. He’s an emotional wreck right now. He’s remembered shit that happened a long time ago, and he’s not coping.” 

“In your opinion.” He began. 

“Yes, in my opinion. You’re saying that he’s handling it well? That’s fucked. Justin isn’t handling it. He’s in complete denial.” I tell the fucker. Evidentially I made the wrong choice in doctors if this guy can’t see it. 

The doctor leans back in his chair and I just want to slap that arrogance off of his face. This is why I hate shrinks. They think they have all the answers, but they don’t. “I can tell you that he is not in denial. He knows what went on, and he’s accepted it. Getting past it is anther question, but we will work on that. But I want to make sure that we can help him. I want to make sure that there is nothing that can get in the way of helping him.” 

Excuse me? “So you think that I’m going to impede his progress?” 

“No, I didn’t say that.” He tells me. “However, I do think that we all need to be on the same page so to speak.” I can’t disagree with that, so I sit back and listen. I have to hear what he says I ‘need’ to do. This should be interesting. “Justin needs to feel like he can talk to you about things without you reacting negatively.” 

“You mean without me going up to Mr. Taylor and beating the shit out of him?” I ask in my most innocent voice. 

“For starters, but there’s more.” Great. I can only roll my eyes, and just listen. But I’m already tiring of this conversation. “The only reason why I am letting you sit in on these sessions, and I will continue to let you sit in is because I think that Justin needs that. Right now, I think he needs to have you here to help him. Is it – in my professional opinion the best thing? No. I believe that Justin needs to deal with this partly on his own, without fear of repercussions. But for now… I’ll go along with his wishes.” 

“That’s very civil of you,” I tell him, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. 

The shrink shakes his head at me, and I know I should be a little nicer. I mean this guy can make sure I’m never sitting in on one of these sessions, but I just can’t help myself. I really can’t. “It is my understanding that you have had your own troubled childhood.” He states and that immediately get me on the defensive. “And I want to see if sitting in on these sessions with Justin would be hard on you.” 

“I think I can handle it. I may have had a shitty time growing up, but it’s nothing like this.” I tell him. 

He just nods, and leans forward in his chair. “I also would like to find out if your own problems with Justin’s father could cause a problem. Well problems with both his father and his mother. How do you feel about them?” 

This is a test, I know it. If I answer wrong then you can kiss my being here good-bye. Fucker. “Do I like Craig Taylor? No. Would I like to see the fucker burned at the stake and ripped to shreds? Yes. But I assure you, that I’ll be on my best behavior. And besides, Justin knows how I feel about that asshole, and quite frankly, I think he feels about the same way I do right now.” 

“As for his mother.” I begin shaking my head. “Is she just as bad as my own mother who didn’t do a damn thing to stop my ol’ man from beating the shit out of me? Maybe, but I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. However, I won’t let her hurt him again. I won’t let her stay in denial about this. I don’t want her to hide behind her WASPy upbringing.” I honestly tell him. “Look, I know that Justin still wants a relationship with her, and I’m almost positive that he still wants to have something with his ol’ man. But I’m smart enough to know that he won’t get the thing with his dad ever again. No matter how much he tries he won’t be able to get past the whole mess that he’s remembering. I know this, and I’m ready to deal with it. However this turns out, I will be there for Justin. I won’t abandon him. No matter what is said, about me, us, them… I’m here for him.” 

That’s when the doctor gets this smile on his face, and frankly it’s a little unnerving. “That’s all I needed to know. Justin needs someone right now that he feels won’t abandon him. He’s afraid that he’ll be alone. Everyone else in his life has either left him, or let him down in one way or another. I want to be sure that you won’t do that to him. He’s in a very fragile state right now, and he doesn’t need anymore added on to it.” 

So now it all makes sense to me. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. All his questions, all the crap these past couple of minutes just fall into place. Like there was ever any doubt that I would be there for him, at least in my mind. I guess it proves my previous point that I had at some point let Justin down. I know when, and where but it is still painful. 

It’s painful knowing that he’s still unsure about us. I want to be pissed, but I can understand it. I guess I have to work a little harder to prove to him that I am not leaving. We have to – god forbid – talk about things. Talk about the past. 

That is one conversation that I’m not looking forward to having, but I know it’s necessary. 

Now these appointments… they are definitely trying. On me.. on Justin. I know that it will be hard for me to sit there and listen to what is coming out of his mouth. I’m sure I will have to hold onto the chair so that I don’t fly out of it in a blind rage as he starts to talk about what Craig did to him. 

The thing I know is that more and more stuff are becoming clear to him… or more memories are resurfacing, anyway. Frankly, I think I deserve the humanitarian award for not killing that sick fuck. Although I really should get it for riding the world of him. 

Ahh choices. 

Once I am dismissed, I pick Justin up from the waiting area and we head back to the loft. I try to put Justin to bed, once we enter cause frankly, he looked tired as hell. It’s not like that, I’m not trying to treat him as a child, it’s just that I don’t think that I had ever seen him look so fragile. Scratch that… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen it. Of course never would I have thought that we would have to go through this again. 

I also know that it will only get worse. He has a lot of issues that they have to get through… that we have to get through. I’m trying to help, trying to answer the guy’s questions, but it’s not easy. I am trying to be an active participant of this mess. Not for me… for Justin. If I calm up, then he will never get the help he needs. I need to show him that I won’t leave him, and that is going to be our greatest challenge I think. 

Of course it would be a hell of a lot easier if he would just move back in, but his damn independent streak won’t let him right now. I’ll keep working on him, but I know it will take a while. 

While he’s resting, I sit down at my computer and get some work done. I’m glad that I could make these appointments for late in the day, cause I know that I wouldn’t be able to miss that much work. Not when I’m basically just starting out in this new firm. Maybe I should just go out on my own, say fuck-you to the whole mess. Who knows… maybe one day, if I could convince Justin that it would be in his best interest to be my art director. 

It was only an hour later when I hear him tossing and turning, caught in the middle of a nightmare. It pisses me off that he can’t get enough peace to sleep more than a couple of hours. I feel like we’ve gone back in time – back to that time after he got out of the hospital. Slowly, I ease my way onto the bed next to him and lightly run my hand across his back, trying to ease him out of the dream. I learned a couple of things the last time, and I’m glad that they still work. 

You can’t just wake him. He’d go right into a panic attack (comma) which is almost worse than the dream itself. No, you have to ease him out of it. Talk quietly to him, start off touching him lightly then add a little more pressure as he starts to come out of it. Easing him out of it, nice and slow. 

See I can be taught. The thing I hate is that I had to learn it at all. I hate that we have to go through this shit to begin with. I hate that he has to suffer like this. 

But what can I do except be there for him when he needs me, and he does need me. You can forget all about those damn arguments about him wanting to be his own man, we both know that he needs me right now. He needs something right now, and I guess I am lucky that he can get it from me. 

Scary thought. Someone relying on me to do the right thing, say the right things. Someone relying on me to be there to help him through it. Three years ago, I would have fought this…I would have told him to figure it out himself, to get over himself. Now… I can’t. I just can’t stand by and watch him suffer without trying to do something. I can’t stand it, I won’t stand for it. 

“Wanna talk about it?” I ask him as I continue to sit there. His eyes slowly opening and I can tell that he’s finally getting his bearings. 

“Fuck I hate this shit.” He mumbles as he turns his face back into the pillow. He looks like a little kid when he does that, but I’m not going to tell him that. He’d get pissed, and that’s not what I’m going for right now. “If I survive this, then I think I can get through anything.” 

I pull him over and into my arms, as I lean back against the wall. “Ah, you’ll get through it. You’re the strongest person I know. Nothing can completely break you… not unless you let it.” 

“I don’t want this to, but it’s hard.” He quietly says with his head laying on my shoulder. 

I know that it’s hard for him. God how I know that it is. Who wouldn’t be affected by this? Who wouldn’t feel like everything is just piling up waiting to take you down? “We’ll get through this. I promise you.” I tell him. Maybe I want to say things that I know will make him better. There has to be a reason why I’m saying shit that I never thought that I would say before in my life. But there’s something about him right now… something about these past couple of months that is just bringing the shit out of me. Things I never thought I would revel, never thought I would talk about … I want to now. 

I’m getting soft in my age. Note… not old age. 

“I know. I just hate it. I don’t know if I can be strong. I’m not sure I want to.” He tells me, and I can feel this tightening in my chest. Pain shooting through my soul at hearing the defeat in his voice. “Thank-you.” He whispers, and I take a quick double take. 

“For what?” I ask, honestly curious. 

“For being here. For understanding. For… for just being you.” He informs me, and I want to argue with him. I haven’t done anything really. I don’t think I did. “And … thanks. For you know, making me go to this guy. You were right. I need help. I just wish I didn’t.” 

Damn! I hate this shit. I really do. “I wish you didn’t either, but we both know that would be a lie. Hell, I would need it too if I went through what you have.” 

And it’s the truth. I know I would… now whether or not I would actually go is another matter, but I know I would need it. Hell, I need it anyway, but this isn’t about me. It’s about Justin. Plain and simple. “I wish I could do more.” I tell him. I do. I do wish I could do more. I wish that I could do a hell of a lot more. 

I don’t know what… but something. 

Kill Craig Taylor. 

Bitch slap, Jennifer Taylor. 

Bash Hobbs. 

Take away all the pain he has tearing him up inside. 

Something. 

But I can’t. I know that. All I can do is be here for him. Be ready to listen. Maybe we can get past this, and move on. Maybe we can help each other get past all of the past pain and be stronger people for it. A stronger couple. 

Who knows? Only time will tell, I guess. But damn is it hard. 

“I know you do, Bri. And I appreciate it. It means a lot. More than I can ever say. I love you.” He wraps his arms around me and starts to drift off. All I can do now is just hold him. Hold him and try to keep the demons at bay. He does it for me every night he’s here, even if he doesn’t realize it. 

He makes me feel loved. Something I never had growing up. He makes me feel like I can do anything. 

Why did I fight this for so long? Why was I so scared to let him in? 

I guess we both still have a lot of demons to overcome. We both have our own pasts to get past. Maybe one day we can go a day without some reminder. 

One day at a time. 

That’s all there is to it. We have to take things one-step at a time, and hope that things will work out. I’m sure we will get past this, that we will make it. I just hope it’s in one piece, and not torn to shreds. I’m sure we will, but I’m not positive. As long was we stick together we should be fine, cause he makes me feel like I can handle anything. I just have to make him realize that this won’t destroy him. 

I only hope I’m up for the job. I hope I don’t let him down like I have in the past. I have to get past my reluctance and let him in. Oh he’s already in, I just have to be more open. I think I can do that. Cause it’s the only thing keeping him afloat right now. 

I won’t let him drown alone, if nothing else. If he goes down so do I. That’s my promise to him.


	7. A New Day Has Come 2

Warning: long chapter

* * *

I can tell that Justin is in a bad place. His talk with the doc has left him wide open, and I have no idea what to really do except hold him. He’s on edge, and frankly I’m worried that one more thing will push him over the edge. If we can get through today… if we can just make it through the night without anything else happening, then I think we will be all right. 

But once again… when have things ever been easy for us?

There’s a knock on the door, and I definitely do NOT want to answer it. Justin slowly extracts himself from my arms, and I reach out to him. “Leave it.” I tell him.

“It might be something important.” He says with a small laugh. Although he seems okay, or trying to portray that he’s okay, I know he’s not. Fine. He wants to be an ass about this, I guess I just have to go along with it. Go along and try to make sure he doesn’t get in over his head. I just have a really bad feeling about this. I pause at the top of the steps when I see Jennifer standing there looking at her son, and all I can think of is that the shit is about to hit the fan. “Mom,” I hear Justin say.

“Can we talk?” She asks looking at me from the door. If she thinks that I’m leaving Justin alone with her right now, she’s delusional. Justin only steps away from the front of the door and allows her in. I know I have no say in any of this shit. I know that Justin has to make his own decisions regarding his mother, but dammit… Dammit if I want to have to deal with the fallout if this shit doesn’t go the way he wants it to. Don’t we have enough to deal with?

“Well?” Justin asks sitting in a chair across from his mother. He’s not giving anything away, and he’s forcing her to push the issue. I’m proud of him for that, but I’m still very leery. “Are you here to call me a liar again?”  
Ouch. I know that must have hurt. I move up to the bed and lay down. From here I can make it look like I’m giving them some privacy, but I can still hear everything that is going on. “Justin. I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.”

“Why the change? The other day you thought I was lying to you, why now? Did he say something to you? Did he do something to Molly?” He asks. I know that’s a huge fear of the both of us… that he will do something to Molly. I hope to God that he doesn’t, but you never know. 

“Justin, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I can say to make up for what I did.” I hear the other voice state.

Immediately I’m up and standing at the top of the stairs. Fuck me, hasn’t Justin been through enough? Hasn’t he suffered more than enough for one day – hell two lifetimes? I know that Justin needs to handle this on his own – at least that’s what he will bitch to me about later, but I can’t leave him there to suffer through this alone. I know that what she has to say will be painful for him, and he’s already lost. I can’t keep pretending that I’m not involved, that I am not listening. I make my way over to the couch and sit down beside him. I can try to be nice, and I am… trying that is. It’s hard however. Extremely hard. 

How can one be nice to the one person who could have prevented this? I don’t know, but for Justin I am trying. 

Justin looks up at me, then turns his eyes back down to his hands. He’s sitting away from his mother on the far end of the couch. He can’t even look at her. I just sit there on the arm of the couch, and wrap my arm around his shoulder. I really did want to give them the privacy, and I can tell that dear ol’ Jennifer isn’t too pleased that I’m there, but fuck her. She doesn’t matter in my world… she’s nothing. I’m here for Justin and if she – or anyone else for that matter – doesn’t like it, then they can just fuck off. 

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s over, done. You had your chance, and it’s too late for me.” He quietly states. “What made you suddenly believe me?” He asks her again, and I know where he is coming from. It wasn’t that long ago that she was calling him a liar, that she was telling him that his ‘father’ wouldn’t do that. I watch as Jennifer struggles within herself, trying to explain herself. I hope for everyone’s sake that she can. Justin loves her – despite everything. Who am I to deny him his mother? But he needs to decide that on his own. Let’s just hope that she doesn’t destroy him in the process of her ‘explaining’? I think you’d better leave. I need time, mom. I need time to see if I can forgive you. Maybe some day.” He says as he walks over to the bedroom.

I lead Jennifer over to the door, and open it. “I’ll watch out for him.” I tell her. I don’t’ even know why, but I know she’s worried about him, so I will try to ease her mind. Why? Fuck if I know, but it just seems right. No point in burning all the bridges… not when one day Justin may decide that he wants to have her in his life.  
“Thank-you. Can you let him know… I love him?” I nod and shut the door behind her. I just know that these next couple of days … hell weeks, are going to be trying on the both of us.

The next couple of weeks go by in a blur. Justin and I settle into a routine, granted it would make my life a hell of a lot easier if he would just move the fuck back in here. I can’t fucking sleep when he’s not here… I’m afraid that he’ll remember something and Daphne won’t be able to handle it. It’s stupid I know, but I still worry. It’s my right, dammit.

So when I finally resign myself to this small taste of quiet, everything gets turned upside down once again.   
See? Never a moments rest.

At least not for us.

I hear the loft door open, revealing Justin behind it. I wish that I had been able to go with him to see the doc, but I know that there are just some things that I can’t help him with. No matter how much I want to, I can’t. I want to just reach inside him and take away all the pain, to ease his suffering, but I can’t. They say that it’s all a part of the healing process. 

I say bullshit. 

Yeah, I’m normally one to say ‘do whatever you have to do to forget’, to push the pain so far inside you so that you never think of it again. But with Justin… things just don’t work out that way. He can’t do the same things that I do, not if he wants to survive. I’ve learned that about him, and I love him for it. He needs to get things out in the open, and even if it’s not with me, I’m happy that he has someone he can talk to.

“Hey.” I say in greeting, quickly taking note of his slumped shoulders, and the red, puffy eyes. God, how I hate this shit. I hate seeing him in pain, I hate that this is tearing him apart. No matter what I do, it will never be enough. I can’t fix this, as he told me before. I can’t do anything. 

At times I wonder if I’m actually helping him, or if I’m only making things worse. I wonder if I am hurting him even more. I forced him to go to that damn shrink, and every time I see him walk out of that room he’s a total mess. I know he tries not to cry in front of me, he tries to hold it all in and be strong. He tells me that he’s a man and he can take care of things himself, that it’s not my concern.

How can I ever convince him that anything dealing with him is my concern? How can I tell him that I want to be a part of this – that I want to help him – any way I can? 

Justin stands in front of me, holding a small book in his hand. I know what it is, I’ve seen it practically glued to his person for weeks now. Just one more thing that is tying us down, one more reminder that things just are not right. I’m glad that he has that outlet, that he can get things out of his system – as much as he can anyway, but I just hate what it represents.

Is that wrong of me? Is it wrong for me to want him to tell me, to talk to me? I don’t really know what I can do, what I will do if I ever knew all of the things running through his head? But there’s that part of me that feels like he’s being closed off. I feel like he can’t give me his all, and that’s one of the things I miss the most.

Justin used to always be able to give everything he had into things. He would just latch on and not let go until you went along with what he wanted. That’s the way he was, the way I want him to be again.

But no. The old Justin is gone, maybe one day we can get some of that back. Hell, who knows, maybe – hopefully – he will come out of this a hell of a lot stronger than anyone could ever imagine. That’s what I really want. I want him to one day just stand there and say fuck it. Fuck everything. Live life to the fullest. To hell with the past, live for the now. 

It’s wishful thinking on my part, I know. Hell, I haven’t even been able to get past what my ol’ man had done to me… how can I even expect Justin to be over what his asshole of a father did to him? I shouldn’t, but there’s a small part of me that hopes he’s better than me, that he’s stronger than me. I want him to come out of this.

I guess I just have to stand beside him until he does. I guess I will just have to stick around to see how he grows. It’s the least I can do.

“I was talking with the doc today, and I just… I guess, I just want to let you know that I realized some things.” He tells me, still standing in front of me. I don’t dare reach out to him, despite my wanting to – hell needing to. But, I need to let him get through this, say what he needs to say. “Anyways… Fuck!” He yells.

“Justin.” I begin as I watch him start to turn away from me, running his hand through his hair. He had cut it a couple of days ago, making it so short that I almost had a heart attack. I have an idea why he wants to make such drastic changes in his life, but once again, he won’t tell me. “Talk to me.” I say. I know that I can’t help him unless he tells me what’s wrong. I don’t want to fuck up completely and have him hate me. He doesn’t need that, and I know that neither one of us would survive without the other right now.

Justin thrusts the book at me, and I can only stare at it. He can’t be serious. “Here.” I just stare at the book, like it’s ready to electrocute me or something. I don’t know. All I know is that in this small book contains Justin’s inner thoughts, his fears. It contains everything that I don’t’ want to know, but do. Christ, does that make any sense? It’s almost as if I’m at war with myself. Do I read it? Don’t I? “Please.” He whispers, and I am immediately drawn to his face. I can see that he feels he needs to do this. He thinks he needs me to read this.

I agree, I do want to know. But why do I feel like I’m opening a door that might not be able to close again? Why do I feel that if I read the contents of this small book, I will never be able to let him go? He means the world to me, and I never want him to leave, but if I read this… if I actually open this book and read what he went through, and what he’s still going through – will I ever be able to leave him? Ever?

Maybe that’s what I’m most afraid of with this whole thing. Maybe I’m afraid that we will both rely on each other so much… know each other so well that we won’t be able to function without the other. That if the other was to leave that we would cease to exist. I never wanted to let someone have this much power over me, but yet I find myself reaching for the book and taking it into my own hands.

I guess we’re stuck with one another. He wants me to read this, he wants me to understand… at least as much as I can understand that is. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know that there is no way in hell I can fully understand what’s he’s going through, but it’s almost like he’s opening up his very soul to me, letting me look deep inside a part he’s been wanting to stay closed off. He wants to share this with me in hopes that maybe I can understand. If not understand then to at least be able to help him through this time.

He turns and walks up the stairs, removing clothes as he goes along. It’s the same ritual that he goes through every time he comes home. Shower, sleep, and maybe some sex in there. Okay, maybe not sex but at least some form of cuddling. It’s almost like he wants to know that I’m there, like he wants to feel something beside the pain and loss. Now that I can understand. Who ever said I was an uncaring asshole should see me now.

Me, cuddling.

Once I hear the shower turn on, I just randomly open the book. I’m not ready to read it all. I’m not. Frankly, I don’t want to. Some things are just meant to be kept private, you know? He needs to keep some things to himself. So I turn the page to one of the last entries, and start to read.

_It’s been six months. Six months since I returned from Europe. And longer than that since I started down this path. As much as I would like to say “I’m healed! I’m okay.” I know that even thinking it would be utter bullshit. I’m not okay, I’m not healed. I don’t know when I will be._

_I’m trying though, I really am. And if not for me… then for Brian. He’s been like my rock. He’s been there for me every step of the way, and I have no idea how to thank him. I don’t know if I could have made it this far without him, that’s for sure. I know that the first time I saw HIM again, I would most likely have just ended it. Ended my sorry ass excuse of a life, and never once would have thought about who I was leaving behind._

_But now… I can’t imagine doing that. Not to Brian, or to Daphne. My two rocks. My whole existence now. They are all I have, really._

_It’s strange. When I left for Europe, I had such high hopes. I would finally be able to be a man, stand on my own two feet. But then I got that silly little notion of trying to remember what I had with Brian that night so long ago. I often wonder if I hadn’t done that, if I hadn’t wanted some part of him with me during those long nights, if I would have ever remembered this._

_Would I change it? Would I have gone and tried to remember knowing that I would also get these memories in return?_

_I don’t know. I don’t regret trying to remember that night, but I am just not sure right now if the price was too high. I hope that one day I will. I hope that one day I will be able to process those memories, and learn to love them like they should. I want to be able to look at them and not curse them for forcing this mess on me._

_Maybe some day. I just wish that some day was now._

_My past. What is it exactly? What was it that I think was shattered the most with these memories?_

_Was it my belief that my father would always be there for me, protect me? Well duh. Of course that’s completely destroyed. I know better now. Everything that I knew, everything that I had once led myself to believe about my father is false. Everything is now tainted. The games we used to go to. Him teaching me how to ride my first bike. Teaching me how to swim… Christ everything is now gone. I can’t look back now and see any good memories of him, of my time in that house. He destroyed it all. Everything is now tainted with his sickness._

_Was it the belief that my mother would protect me, and love me? As much as it pains me, yes that was… is destroyed as well. I want to believe that she’s sorry that she didn’t notice. I want to believe that she wants to make it up to me. I want to believe that she will be there for me, that she believes me. I just don’t know if I can ever get past the hurt. I don’t know if I can ever really forgive her for not stopping him. I want to, I want her in my life… but I don’t know if I can trust her. What’s love without trust?_

_I think the only positive thing that has come out of this is Brian, and our… relationship, if one can call it that. We’ve never been the typical couple, never have… never will. I just wish that I didn’t have to hurt him this much. I wish I could be the man he deserves._

_Yeah, he’d say that I am. That I’m more of a man than he deserves, that I’m strong, and caring. That he loves me no matter what and he will be there for me, no matter what. I guess that’s where the problem lies._

_I mean, how can I let him love me when I’m not even whole? I’ve had pieces ripped out of me. That picture I drew once of a shattered image… my reflection shattered in a busted up mirror. That’s the way I feel. The glass just pooling around me, and when I look at my reflection there are pieces missing. How can I ever expect someone to look at me and not see? How can Brian look at me and see a man who is worthy of his love?_

_I have never been a literary type, but for some reason my hand just started writing. Moving without thought. I wrote something one day at work, scribbled on a napkin. I really don’t know why, or even where it came from, but the urge to try and expel it from my body was so strong. So what the hell. It might as well go in here too, right?_

_So here goes. Let the Doc try and figure this one out._

_Peace in Pieces_

_Peace--or pieces?_  
I went to find peace.  
I'm in pieces.  
What peace is there in pieces?  
How do you find contentment when your soul is in shreds?  
Content to be in pieces?  
I don't think so. 

_But how do you fix what should never have been broken?_  
How do you re-create the whole when pieces are missing?  
Pieces that shattered and shattered again, until they were only dust.  
Dust you find still in your eyes, years later at four in the morning.  
Pieces that made you feel like you belonged  
are gone. 

_Pieces that made you feel stable_  
are dust beneath your feet.  
Pieces that once held hope and trust,  
have been carelessly cast away by those who claimed love. 

_And I am supposed to put myself together; mature, sane, and whole,_  
from the pieces that are left.  
Never mind the missing parts  
They were unneeded. 

_Never mind the pain  
It's all in your head._

_Never mind that all that is left  
are the shattered shards that once were the heart of a child._

_I'd gladly trade pieces for peace._

_I guess that’s what I want the most. I know that I can never get the past back, I can never have that childhood again. It’s gone, completely shattered – never to be whole again. I just want peace. I want to one day look at myself and feel like I’m okay. I want to just fucking feel again. Feel something besides pain and betrayal. I want to know that I’m okay, that things will be okay. I want to know that I’m someone besides a fucking victim._

_I’m sick of feeling incomplete. I’m sick and tired of looking at Deb and Michael… Mel, Linds, and Gus… hell even Brian and Gus, and wish… just fucking WISH that I had that. Wish that I didn’t have that taken away from me._

_I want to be able to look at my mom again and not feel this sudden sense of betrayal. I want to see my sister and NOT wonder if she has gone through what I did. I want to have a holiday that is not tainted by some reminder of the past. I want to be able to hold Gus and take him to the park, and not have this damn flash of Craig doing the same thing. I don’t want to let this tear me apart._

_The only bad thing is… it already has. It has torn me apart, it’s completely shattered me. One who used to be so strong, and so brave… now…_

_I just don’t know. I’m sick and tired of being strong. I’m tired of pretending that things are okay. I just want to find a way to shove all this shit back into my head, and forget about it again. I want my childhood back!_

_Thank God for Brian though. He’s… what can I say? I think he’s the only thing holding me upright. He’s the only thing that’s keeping me in the now, and not letting me fall into the abyss. I want to be strong for him, not put so much on him, but I don’t know if I can. All I know, is that for once in my life… well once in a long time anyway, I know where I belong._

_It’s taken me these six months to know that my place is with Brian. I know that only he can help me through this. I need his strength now. I need his love. I know he’ll give it to me._

_That’s love. That’s real love. I think I’m finally beginning to understand that._

_Now if only I can accept that I can’t change the past, and start fresh with my life… I think I will be all right. I only hope that love is enough for now, cause I don’t think that I have anything else to give._

_I only wonder if I can ever be whole again, if I will ever find the pieces of myself, and put something together that resembles the real me. Who is the real me? Do I even know anymore? Will I even recognize myself when all is said and done? Will I ever find the peace within myself to go on, to find the future I once so desperately wanted with Brian? The future I wanted for myself?_

_Justin_

Placing the book down, I slowly wipe the tears that had coated my face. I knew he was hurting, I knew that he was in pain, I guess I just never realized how much pain he was in. I want to do something, I really do. I want to help him put himself together. Despite the fact that I know I can’t do it for him, I know I have to try and help him. I’ll do anything I can to try and make that future he so desperately wanted come true. I have to. It’s the least I can do for him after everything he’s given me.

Granted the first though that goes through my mind of course is what I would like to do to Craig Taylor, but I know rationally that I can’t think about that now. I have more pressing matters to attend to.

And that being the person laying in the bed right this very minute.

I stand and make my way over to the bed, strip, and lay down beside him. We wrap our arms around each other, his face buried on my chest, and I hold him. Hold him as if our lives depend on it. “I won’t let you slip away. I can’t.” I tell him. I think for the first time, I can really see the shattered pieces of glass around him, and I ache to pick them up and put them back together. Impossible task, but I still hate the looks of it. I hate that he’s hurting so much.

“I know you won’t, Bri. I know.” He whispers against my chest. “It’s just how I feel, I don’t’ know why… I wish I could just forget. I wish I could…”

“I know,” I tell him lying my cheek against his head after planting a light kiss on top of it. “We’ll find that peace, Justin. Someday, I promise you… we’ll find that peace. Even if it takes forever.”

Simple, easy declaration. I know he understands what I’m trying to say. I’m giving him a promise. The promise of forever. And it’s a true promise. Even if it takes the rest of our lives… I will be there to help him pick up the pieces, just like he helps me with my own shattered soul. 

Cause that’s what relationships are about. That’s what love is about.

I only wish that it wasn’t necessary. I wish that for once we had an easy life, but I guess that just isn’t us. That just isn’t who we are.

I hope that when and if the others find out about this that they will be there for him as a family should. He never told them about this, and it’s not my place to tell them for him. I only hope that when they find out, it won’t hurt him more.

No, I won’t let that happen. I won’t let anyone else hurt him. Even if I lose everything, I know what I have to do. I will sacrifice anything… everything I have to keep him safe, and sane. 

It’s the least I can do. It’s what he deserves. 

I’ll let him lean on me, I’ll be the strong one for now so he doesn’t have to be. We will come out of this on top. We have to.

I won’t accept any other alternative. 

Cause we’re stronger than that. We’re stronger together, and I can’t let him forget that.

“I love you.” I whisper against his head. “I’ll help you find that peace, Justin. We’ll find it together. I promise.”

I only hope he heard me, that it penetrated his soul. I hope he knows that I will try my hardest to never let him down again. 

Pulling his sleeping form closer to me, I close my eyes and try to erase the image of the shattered mirror out of my head.

I have to help him… if not, then we both will be destroyed.

* * *

**NOTE: The poem was written by a fellow B/J fan who I admire greatly. Thank-you for sharing your strength, your courage, and your talent with us all. Peace in Peaces was written and copyrighted by R.L Fewell aka bobbey. Thank-you for allowing me to include it in this story.


	8. A New Day Has Come 2

^^^^^^^^^  
As the days and weeks drifted by, I felt like I was on a damn roller coaster. One day everything would be perfect, then the next… hell I might not see him for days on end. He would be hiding out a Daphne's, hiding from every damn thing, me included. That of course would last until I knock on their damn door and drag his ass back home. No matter how many times I tell him that he should move back in, he always says no. I know that I'm getting really fucking tired of him saying no. Who knows? Maybe one of these days he will go to Daphne's only to find that all of his shit is no longer there. 

Little twat. But he's my twat, so I guess I can't say much. 

As of now, I haven't seen him in two days. Not one word from him. The shit hasn't returned my calls, not been to the diner… nothing. I want him to know that he doesn't have to fucking shut me out, but what I can do to convince him that I'll be here for him I have no clue. I don't know what to say to him to believe me. Damn little shit! However, before I could even get off the couch and grab my keys, I hear the door open and watch as Justin closes it behind him. 

I want to grab him and pull him into my arms. I want to rip him a new asshole for making me worry, for making me care. I want to make the past just fucking go away, but I can't. Nothing can make this shit right… nothing. When he turns to face me, I know that it's all just came crashing in on him, that he's fucking drowning. So I do the only thing I can do. I pull him into my arms and just hold him, try to keep him from drowning, from fucking shattering into a million pieces. His body is shaking uncontrollably as I hold onto him tightly. I don't ask… I can't ask. No words of comfort will work right now, I know that. There is not a damn thing I can do, and it's fucking killing me. Cause at this moment, it's like he doesn't even know where he is. 

We just stand there for what seems like hours, just holding each other, trying to keep each other afloat. I pull away a little to look him in the eyes, and instantly I regret it. All the pain and anger I have felt toward Craig Taylor and his poor excuse to ‘fatherhood' start to burst through me, but I am able to once again push it to the side. Cause the look in Justin's eyes… I need to be here for him. 

There is nothing there, in his eyes. Nothing at all. And that scares the hell out of me. Through all of this shit, he would never have this blank look in his eyes. NEVER! There would always be pain, sadness, loss, anger, you name it he would always have it reflected in his eyes. Now… now there's nothing. It's almost like someone went and turned off the lights. I'm scared. So fucking terrified that I can barely breathe. I don't know what to do, what to say. I have never felt this fucking helpless in my life. 

I get him over to the couch, and it is like I'm moving a mannequin, he's so unresponsive. Sitting there, staring at absolutely nothing, I have to turn away from that. I have to turn away so I don't get as lost as he is, cause this is killing me. Have to find a way to bring him out of this, have to find a way to bring him back to me, to the land of living. 

I have to leave him there so I can start trying to fix this. Yes, that's me… ‘Mr. Fix-it'. Fuck! Okay, I know I had grabbed the damn phone number for the doc somewhere around here, but I couldn't even fucking begin to remember where the hell I put it. It almost seems like the hole that Justin was in was beginning to fill the loft, cause I couldn't think. I stop for a second and close my eyes. Rushing over to my desk, I pull open the drawer and pull out my wallet. Of course it's there, the one place I knew I would have with me at all times. Reaching for the phone I dial the emergency number and pray that the fucker is there. I hear some women pick up the phone, a damn answering service, and I try to stay calm enough to tell her to get the damn doctor NOW, and to have him call me. The bitch had the damn audacity to ask me if this was an emergency. “What the fuck do you think this is?! That I'm calling for my fucking health!? I need the doc NOW!” I yell as I slam the phone down. 

I move to sit on the couch beside Justin, trying to get some reaction out of him. I fucking hate this. This unresponsiveness. He's like a damn zombie, like nothing is registering with him. The phone rings and I quickly pick it up. It scared the shit out me, but Justin gave no reaction to it at all – like he didn't even hear it. I listen as the doc begins to ask me questions, which I automatically answer. No I don't know what happened. No, he's not responding, he's not fucking here. No, I don't think he's on drugs. Fucking questions after questions… I want him to just say something so we can fucking fix this. Finally the fucker tells me to bring Justin in, and I want to breathe a sigh of relief. It's about damn time. 

“Justin,” I quietly state. I don't know if he can even hear me… if he even knows I'm here. “Come on, we have to get to the doctor's office.” I pull on his arm, and he allows me to take him, lead him wherever I want to take him. I think that's what scares me the most. That he is willing to follow without question, without any sign that he knows what I'm saying. What if he was out on the streets? What if some asshole got a hold of him? What if they… what if… no, I can't even think that. I have to believe that Justin will come out of this… that he won't be a fucking vegetable. 

Even though I wanted to get there are fast as I could, the damn traffic was working against me for some fucking reason. Why the HELL is everyone out on the streets tonight? What the FUCK is going on? Finally I have the damn building in my sight, and pull of to a parking lot close by. Leading Justin inside, I can only hope that this damn doctor is worth all the damn money I'm paying him. If not, then there will be hell to pay. “He's waiting for you.” The receptionist state s as I place my hand on the small of Justin's back and led him inside. 

Once I have Justin sitting down, the doctor dismisses me. Fucking dismisse s me, like I'm nothing… like I wasn't the one who had to drag Justin here, like I'm fucking nothing. “I need to try to get through to him. If I need your help, I will get you. Please let me try first, my way.” He explains. Piece of shit. 

So I storm out of the damn office and find a seat directly beside the door. This way I can hear if I'm needed. To hell with what the damn doc said. If I think Justin needs me there, then dammit all, I will be there. Fuck him and his rules. It's silent, completely and totally silent. There's this itch deep inside me wanting to tear in there, to force Justin to come out of it and just fucking tell me what is going on. But instead I wait. Wait for word from the damn doc telling that it's okay. 

The thing is, I have no idea if I'm helping Justin at all or if I'm just making things worse? Am I doing the right thing by letting him handle this on his own? Should I be doing more or less? What the fuck is the right thing to do in a situation like this? I honestly have no fucking clue. All I do know is that I am going to go fucking crazy sitting here waiting to see what is going on. 

Sitting there, I can hear some yelling, and unfortunately some things hitting the wall. I wonder what the hell is going on in there? What is that asshole doing to Justin? I want to know, and the urge to run into that damn office is killing me. I know I can't, but the urge is there. It's growing with each breath I take, with each sound I hear coming from the room. 

I can't help but wonder what the hell set this shit off. Things seemed to be going okay, well as okay as they can considering. But we were doing all right. This is why I want him to move back in. Why I need him around. I need to know this shit before it comes crashing in around us. 

It's an hour later when the door finally opens, and I stand to watch Justin come out. He seems subdued, but at least he's aware – or seems to be. “I want to see you in two days, see how the medication is working.” The Doc told (tells) Justin. 

“We'll be here,” I tell him. Slowly I start to make my way over to Justin, not really sure of the welcome I will get. I don't want him to shut me out, but I don't want to push him away either. “Ready?” 

Justin looks up at me, and the pain I can see in his eyes tears me up inside. “Yeah.” His voice is quiet, scratchy. Could be either from the yelling I heard inside that room, or from the tears I can see still falling down his face. Hell, it could just be everything at once crashing in around him for all I know. I follow closely behind him to the car, letting him have his space, but close enough for him to know that I am there for him when and if he needs me. 

I don't even give him a chance to get away. After picking up his new meds, I head straight toward the loft. I want him to be close, and if he was over at Daphne's I know I'd have to let him go there. He's not a prisoner, I won't hold him against his will, but I'm not going to willingly let him leave either. If he doesn't tell me he wants to go there, then I'll play dumb and take him home. It is his home, even if he doesn't reside there all the time. I just have to convince him that it would be better for all involved that he moves back in. 

As he crawls into the bed, I just site there and watch him from the kitchen. It fucking reminds me of that time after Gus' first birthday, when the memories of the bashing came crashing in around him. Only… this is so much worse. I'm half afraid of what is going to happen from here on out. I want to be there for him, to give him the chance to open up to me, but I'm fucking terrified as well. How can I let him open up to me when I know that whatever he says will make me want to kill that fucking Craig even more? 

I know he needs to handle some of this shit on his own, that he needs to figure out what needs to be done about Craig, but that doesn't stop the thirst for revenge that burns within me. How the fuck can a father do that to their child? Someone they claim to love? Someone who they are supposed to take care of? What he stole from Justin angers me every minute. Did he have any idea what it would do to a kid? Did he even THINK about any of this shit? Doubt he even would have given a damn if he knew. 

It's the thought that he knew and did it on purpose that scares the shit out of me. I mean, really fucking terrifies me. It's one thing to beat your kid into submission, because you never wanted them around. It's one thing to fuck your kid because you're completely sick in the head. But it's another thing to have done that later on purpose to make sure that the kid is fucked up in the future. It's that with intent crap that they talk about on all those courtroom drama shows. Maliciously and with the intent to fuck them over… some crap like that. 

I guess it's something that we will never know. Something that I just have to deal with the aftermath. Cause there sure as fuck will be an aftermath. Justin is too fucked up right now to even … hell even walk. He's closed himself off from everything and I hate Craig Taylor more and more with each passing second. 

“Hey,” Justin quietly states at the top of the stairs, bringing me out of my plans for Craig Taylor. 

“Hey. You hungry?” I ask as I slowly make my way over to him. I'm not entirely sure how he will take being touched right now. If he's remembering what happened to him, he might not want any contact. So I guess, I'll just have to wait for him to come to me. Christ I hate this shit. 

Justin shrug s a little, so I guess I can take that as a yes. It really doesn't matter cause he'll need something in his stomach if he is going to take his meds. I make a small sandwich for him to eat, and set it down on the counter. “Thanks.” Justin move s over to the table with the plate in his hand. “I don't really know what came over me earlier. Thank-you for that.” 

“For what? You scared the shit out of me. You weren't talking, hell you didn't even know where you were.” I inform him. He did scare me, I can't deny that. “Want to tell me what triggered it?” 

Justin set s his food back down on the plate, and stare s at the table top. “It's stupid really. I was just walking around, trying to get up the courage to see mom… I don't know. It just kinda hit me.” 

I want to ask, God knows I want to ask, but I know I have to let him tell me. I can't push him to open up… he has to trust me enough to tell me. “You okay now?” 

Justin gave s me a small smile, but I can see the pain still etched on his face. “I went by the old park that dad… that Craig used to take me too all the time. That's when it hit me. I remembered a time when he took me there to play catch, I guess. I kept messing up, not wanting to play that stupid game. He got so mad at me, kept telling me that I had to be a man, that all boys liked baseball.” I try not to smile at that little bit. It's a dead giveaway. Justin refusing to play with the boys… well not the way that his dear ol' dad wanted him to. Between that and his love for arts? How the hell could they have not known that Justin was playing for the other team? 

Parents… sometimes I have to wonder about them. I mean, yeah… I played sports. For me it was a release. The only thing I could think of to get out of the damn house and ‘be a man', as Jack always said. That small part of me did it to prove to them that I was a man, and to try and get them to approve of SOMETHING I did. Didn't work, but hell not much ever did. 

“When we got home, I went to my room. I felt bad for making him angry.” Justin continue s to explain. I didn't dare interrupt, not that I think he would hear me if I did. “I remember him and mom arguing. Craig kept going on and fucking on about how I needed to get into sports. That he didn't want a sissy kid around. I was so upset, I wanted to make it right. I wanted him to love me again, I guess.” 

Ohh do I know where this is going, and I close my eyes briefly trying to steal myself for what is to come. It's one thing to know that Justin went through it…it's something entirely different to hear about it. I open my eyes, and reach across the table to take his hand in mine. I don't want to lose him to the memories, I can only hope that this slight contact will keep him grounded. 

“Later… that night. He came into my room. Told me that he was sorry, and that he still loved me. He just wished that I would be different. That I would be like other kids.” The tears are starting to fall down Justin's face, and I slowly pull him up from his spot. This is not a discussion that I can listen to without holding him. Maybe he needs that too, I don't know. I just know that I can't handle listening to it without knowing that it's not real. Well not happening now, at least. “I told him that I was sorry… that I would do anything to make it up to him.” 

“He kept saying that no one could know. That no one could ever know how much he loved me, and how much he wanted only the best for me.” Justin wraps his arms around my waist and leans his head against my chest. He's shaking so bad that I hold him as close to my body as I can without hurting him. “I remember how much it hurt. I kept telling him that he was hurting me, and he would tell me that all little boys needed to know some pain. All boys experienced pain. It was normal. He made me believe that all boys loved their daddy's enough to do this. That it was what sons did for their dads if they really loved them.” 

Craig Taylor better thank his luckyfuckingstars that he isn't here right now. How can a dad make their son believe that it was their ‘duty' to get raped? “I didn't want him to think that I didn't love him, that I wasn't a good son.” Justin's voice cracks as the tears choke him. “I wanted to be a good son… I wanted him to love me. I didn't want him to think that I didn't like him touching me, that I didn't want him around. I … I wanted to be like the other boys, and I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with me. If other boys let their dads love them, why couldn't I?” 

Justin moves closer, if that is humanly possible, and brings his hand to mine. I quickly entwine our fingers and just keep it in a tight grasp. I knew he wasn't finished, and no matter how much it practically kills me to hear this shit, I have to let him get it out. I may not be a damn psychologist, or whatever, but I know that much. We tried things the other way – not talking that is – when it came to the bashing and that didn't turn out well. So I guess it's time to be a fucking man and do the right thing. Right? 

“I guess, after that… I just kinda lost it. Okay… I really lost it. I don't even know how I ended up here, I just started walking I guess.” 

“I'm glad you did. We got you where you needed to go, and I guess it helped some.” I tell him. Of course I'm only guessing. I THINK it did some good, I mean he's not a vegetable anyway. “You know that I'm here for you, no matter what. You can tell me anything.” 

“I know that now. Fuck, if you could handle this shit…” Justin began. I know where he was going, and in a way, I'm also glad he didn't finish that thought. I don't think that right now all the declarations of love would be the best thing. I just can't see him being real susceptible to it all, not with these memories coursing through his veins. Then again, what do I know? Of course I'm not ready for it. Not yet anyway. Yes, I want him to live here, and I plan on asking him soon. 

I just can't do that today. Not today. Not after what he just went through. 

I'll let him get his damn breath for a couple of days. It's the least I can do. 

Right? Wrong? How the fuck should I know? 

All I know is that I want him here. I want him around. I've been wanting that for a while now. I had brought it up a couple of times, only to be shot down. So what if ego is involved in my decision to wait. So what? Is that wrong of me? Who the fuck cares is all I have to say on the matter. It's my fucking life. It's Justin's life. What everyone else thinks is no concern of mine. So fuck it. 

So I'm waiting. Two days. That's what I'll give myself. Two days to get my shit in order and think of a good way to present it to him. I can't have him thinking – as I know he fucking will the damn drama queen he is – that I am doing this out of pity. No. I need him to see that I want him here and not because of what he's going through. 

Is that part of the reason? Hell yes! I don't want him having to go through this shit alone. I don't want him to zone out like that without me around to help bring him out of it. 

But will I ever tell him that? Fuck no. 

So I have to come up with a way to get him to move in without bringing any of that into it. Cause that isn't the full reason why. Except telling him the other reasons will cost me a lot. I just may have to say shit to him that I never had laid voice to before. 

Can I do that? For our sake, I hope I can.


	9. A New Day Has Come 2

Let me say, I have no idea what they are giving Justin, but it has to be some good shit. I don’t like when they make him a little … well spacey, but he’s a lot calmer right now. He’s actually starting to want to live. He even asked me if we could go out and shoot some pool at Woodys that weekend. Of course I have to make sure he doesn’t drink, but that won’t be too hard. Is he ‘cured’? No. But he’s getting a little better. I wish that he didn’t need the drugs, that he could handle it on his own, but right now he can’t. Maybe with time he can. Who knows.

So I take him to the doctors for his appointment. The appointment to see if they are properly drugging the young man, to see if they need to put him in some fucking ward or something. Hell, I don’t know, but I hate that these people are more fucked up then their patients for the most part, but yet they can sit there and tell you that you’re fucked up. Okay, so I tell people that they want things when I know damn well that no one in their right fucking mind would. Money rules the world.

I have been trying to think of a way to broach the whole moving in thing. Of course, I am going to have to deal with Justin and his mother during a little dinner. Yes, Justin has asked me to attend the little function. Great, just fucking great. How do I sit there and hear that shit? I will never forget the shit she tried to say to him when he told her what that asshole did. I will never forgive her for that. 

Now, I know all about parents being a major pain in the ass, and not worth shit, but I had always believed that Jenn was a stand-up kinda a person. I had seen her stand up for Justin time and time again, going against Craig, and anyone else. Hell, she stood up against me. So I guess seeing her just totally dismissing Justin the way she had made something inside me snap. This was the person who I thought was the way mothers should be, but I guess I was wrong. 

I’ve been wrong a lot lately, and frankly I don’t like it one bit.

So after this little mess here, we head over to a small restaurant for lunch. I have to wonder if it wouldn’t have been better to see the doc AFTER this thing. Who knows? I told the doc that we just maybe back. I hope not, but I’m finding out I don’t know a lot. Jennifer is already there and when she sees us she stands to greet us. I am holding Justin’s hand tightly. Maybe I’m afraid for him. I don’t know what is going to happen. I hate not knowing what’s going on.

“Mom.”

“Justin…Brian.” At least she didn’t say it with disgust in her voice. Maybe she’s finally figured out that I’ll be there for Justin no matter what. That I will be there when his family won’t. Maybe she even finally realizes that I really care about Justin, that I might even be in love with Justin. I’m glad she’s finally realizing it. 

However, I will not be playing nice to her. At least not until I find out where she stands on this whole mess. I won’t do that. I’ll be on my guard, and the first sign of trouble. Well no one will be able to stop me.

Justin moves to sit down and starts to look at the menu. I place my hand on Justin’s leg, letting him know that he’s not alone. That I’m there for him. And if all else fails, I have his meds in my pocket and my cell phone programmed for the doc. This is their show, I’m just a simple by-stander. Yeah right.

“I talked to my lawyer yesterday. I’m trying to get them to change the visitation with Molly changed to supervised.” Jennifer states trying to bring Justin’s attention to her and not the menu.

“We’ll see. Not that I don’t have faith in the legal system, but I’ll believe it when I see it.” Justin tells her after setting the menu down on the table and I try not to laugh. Legal system… what a joke. Justin gives me a small smile, catching my small chuckle. “I’m glad that you’re doing that, but I don’t know if it will make a bit of difference.”

“It’s the only thing I can do, Justin. I’m trying.”

“I know you are, but it won’t change anything. Do we even know if he’s tried this on Molly? Have you found that out?”

I stare at Jennifer trying to see if she was going to deny the possibility. If she does, then I’m out of here. There is a damn good chance that he’s tried something. Especially since Justin had ‘come-out’. You know, some shit about trying to make sure that Molly doesn’t become like her brother or whatthefuckever.

“I’m taking her to a therapist to see if… She’s says no, but I want to be sure. Maybe if you talk to her. She’s not sure what’s going on, and I was thinking that maybe if you talked to her…”

“And what? Tell her that our father rapped me? He had for years, and he doesn’t give a damn about what it’s doing to me? That if daddy is touching you in places that shouldn’t be touched… that if he’s touching you where your clothes are covering then that’s a bad thing. That daddy doesn’t love her, that he’s just a sick fuck who gets off fucking children?”

“Justin… I don’t know. I am trying, but I don’t know what to do.”

“And I do?” I have been feeling Justin tense up more and more as this whole damn thing has been going on, and I hate this shit more by the second. I can somewhat see where Jenn is coming from, but does she have to handle things this way?

“You can’t lay that all on Justin. You need to talk to Molly, and bring it up. It’s your fucking job as her mother, as Justin’s mother. Don’t lay all this shit and responsibility on Justin.” I can feel myself start to lose it. I wonder if I can take some of Justin’s pills to calm down. The sad thing is… I don’t want to calm down. “You know what? I always thought that Jack and Joannie were the worst possible fucking parents out there. Jack cause he liked to beat the shit out of me, and Joannie cause she just stood there and watched.”

“Brian…” Justin tries to calm me, as I feel his hand on top of mine giving it a small squeeze. The bad thing… it’s not working.

“I looked at you, and that asshole you called a husband, and thought that Justin had it made. Well we’re finding out that he didn’t. Craig is a piece of shit, and you… whether or not you knew which in my opinion is still up in the air – you sit there and try to make it all Justin’s responsibility. Take control of your own fucking life and deal with your own shit. Molly is your daughter and if you gave a damn about her, AND about Justin you would do what a mother is supposed to do. Don’t lay all of this on his lap.”

“Brian, really. I can handle this.” Justin says, but I just can’t listen to this anymore. “Where are you going?” He asks as I stand from my seat.

I want to leave, just fucking get the hell out of here, get away from this mess. “Bathroom.” I turn and walk away. As much as I want to leave, I know I can’t. I’m trying to prove to Justin that I will be there for him during this, but I don’t know if I can handle this type of shit. He has enough shit to deal with that he doesn’t need Jennifer to add to it.

I splash some water on my face, as I try to calm down some. “Brian?”

Turning I see Justin standing against the other sink, his arms crossed over his chest. “I won’t say I’m sorry. I think it’s fucked that she’ trying to put this on you, and I won’t apologize for that.”

“I’m not asking you to. I guess… I don’t know. I’m not used to people standing up for me like that. Well at least not lately. You’ve always been there, and I can’t thank-you enough. I don’t know if I’d be able to get through this without you.”

“But…” I ask, cause I can just tell that there is more to this. 

“I think I should talk to Molly. Not alone, though. You’re right in a way that it’s mom’s responsibility, but I think that I need to be there in case she has questions. Or whatever. I don’t know. Hell, I don’t know much of anything anymore. It’s like my life is spinning out of control, and the only thing that’s keeping me grounded is you.”

I give him a small smile as I move to place my hands on either side of him, leaning into him. With him trapped between me and the sink, I lean in and lightly taste his lips. “Well, I guess I’m at least good for something.”

“You’re good for a lot of things.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” He whispers and it sends a direct signal to my cock. Christ, I really shouldn’t be thinking of this now. Not now, but certain parts of my body have other ideas. “It gets hard at night.”

“Maybe… just maybe it would be a good thing if you just stayed with me. You know, for support.”

“Could be. I don’t want to move in with you out of necessity. I don’t want to feel like I’m only moving in cause I have no other alternative.”

The same fucking song I’ve heard for months now. It’s getting old, really fucking old. “You have alternatives. You’re living with Daphne, and it’s going good. But don’t you think that maybe you would be happier if you just moved back in with me?”

“Can we discuss this later? Please? I can only deal with one thing at a time, and right now… I have to try and figure out this shit with my mom.”

He’s right, no matter how much I hate it. I nod and move away from him to hold open the door. One thing at a time, but I can tell you this. I’m not dropping this subject. The moment we get away from this mess, we will discuss this. He will be moving in even if I have to get his shit myself and tie him up to the bed. Now that has some promise, I have to admit. 

So I suffered through lunch with Jennifer and her bullshit, and frankly I’m amazed I didn’t blow up again. Justin owes me for this shit, I can tell you that. Little shit. So what does someone in my position do? Simple, I take him home and fuck him into the mattress. One would say that we shouldn’t do this, that he can’t be ready… I tell them that they don’t know Justin. See, the truth is, there are times that we don’t do anything… hell I think those times outnumber the other. I try to keep him happy, safe. If he has to take a time-out, then I can’t really say anything about that. Hell who wouldn’t want to be touched after remember that asshole doing something to you?

It’s enough to cause me to have nightmares.

And that is the other thing too. The nightmares, the sleepless nights. When I’m not woken by one of his many nightmares, which by the way are scarier than the ones he had after the bashing – then I wake to find him sitting on the couch or at the window sill, just staring off into space. It’s frightening, cause I know that there is really nothing I can do to make it better, nothing I can say that will make it all go away.

“Brian?” Turning I stare at him, wondering what is going on. “You kinda just really zoned out on me there, what’s up?”

“Nothing…”

“Bullshit.” Damn him, he knows me too well. 

“Fine,” I begin as I move to place my head in his lap as we watch TV. These are the type of days that I miss. “You should just move in, you know. That way I can have a pillow handy when I watch TV.”

“So I’m only good for a pillow?” He laughed a little.

“And to help get those hard to reach places when I shower. And you can cook, while I sure as hell can’t.”

“True, you suck in the kitchen.”

“I do that too,” I smile at him remembering all the times we had wasted food cause I was hungry for something besides what he was cooking on the stove. “Plus half of your shit is here anyway, and it could just completely eliminate the whole forgetting something at one place or the other.” You know I have always hated when people would just completely skirt around the issue and babble, but here I am Brian fucking Kinney babbling. “Plus, I kinda miss you when you’re not here.”

“Really?”

I look up at him and roll my eyes. “Like you didn’t know that. You have always told me that you were on to me, so you should have known that.”

“I guess, I just didn’t really think about it. Things haven’t been really … well calm lately.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I don’t know. I meant what I said before that I don’t want to have to live here. That I know I can handle things on my own without someone having to take care of me.”

“Who the fuck says I’d take care of you? I don’t remember that being in the deal.” So that’s a complete lie and we both know that. Justin knows that I would do anything in my power to protect him, but that’s not the reason why I want him to move in. “Can’t I just like having you around. You have this thing that kind of grows on someone.”

“What, my witty charm? My fucked up ideals? My really fucked up life?”

“You’re nice bubble butts, your blue eyes that seem to bore right into you?” I tell him with a smile. “You know as well as I do that I’m not doing shit out of pity or whatever. I want you here, and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t. You don’t have to be here, you’ve proven that you can take care of yourself, despite all the fucked up shit that’s been going on. Can’t I reap some benefits too? I mean, it’s nice to have a partner handy for those long hours that I have to put in at work. A partner who can cater to my every needs.”

“Fat chance of that happening. You couldn’t pay me enough to be a housewife, buddy.”

“Well that’s my dream so hush.”

“Keep dreaming.”

“I’m serious though. I really would like it if you were here.” Justin looks down at me, and I can tell he’s trying to think it over. All I know is I like the feel of his fingers in my hair, I like waking up with him. He knows all the right shit to do to make me feel better, and I want that every fucking day. Is that wrong? I don’t think so. Is he fucked up right now? Yes, but not as much as before. He’s getting the help he needs, even if it’s not from me. It pains me to know that I can’t help him with everything, and I think that this whole mess has taught me that. At least it woke me to the fact that I can’t always protect him from things. Some things he just has to handle on his own. 

Like it? Hell no. I want to make his life the best damn life I can. I wish I could just take away all the memories of what his father did to him away. Take away the memories of the prom and the bashing away, but I can’t. See even I can learn a couple of things. “Look, don’t think you have to give me an answer now, I just want you to know what I think. The choice is yours. Take your time.”

Slowly I stand up and stretch. There is work to do, and I know I’ve been neglecting some projects that really need my attention. I am half afraid that Justin will turn around right now and leave, but when I sit down behind my desk and see him with a sketch pad in front of him, I have to smile. 

I want him to be happy, and I know I’m happier if he’s here. I am a better person with him around, and I really like having him around all the time. Plain and simple facts people. That’s the truth. I can lie to others, and yes, I have lied to myself many times when it came to Justin, but I guess I sort of made a promise to myself this time around. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t go on lying to myself. I want him. I care about him, more than I ever have cared about anyone else. Is it love? Fuck if I know, but I want him around for a long time. I am miserable when he’s not here. That’s what I know, that’s what I am sure of.

So the whole thing is just fucking nuts. I should really think about the whole thing, but the problem is, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. Am I really able to help Justin when he needs it? Can I be compassionate enough to handle the outbursts, and hate that he has to direct at someone? I hope to god I am. The only thing I know is that I want him here, with me, not stuck between two places. 

I know that tomorrow he goes and talks to his sister, and I’m scared to death as to what will happen after that? Will I have to deal with another ‘zombie’ Justin? Fuck, I didn’t like that. He scared the shit out of me, and I don’t really know if I’m ready for another moment like that. Luckily the doc is always handy, always available. I just wish that we didn’t need him, that I could deal with this shit on my own, and help Justin. But I’m man enough to admit that I’m not. I’m not enough for Justin, not when it comes to this.

So I guess that leads to another question. Am I enough for him at all? I’m an emotional cripple myself, and can I really deal with all of his shit on top of my own? I like to think I am, but am I really?

I guess my answer will come in the form of his answer. If he feels that he can trust me enough to care for him, take care of him he will say yes. If he doesn’t, then he’ll say no. In time, I hope to earn it enough to where he can say yes, but I can’t push him. Not now… maybe not ever. I see what this mess is doing to him. He’s not the same person I met all those years ago, and frankly I’m not either. We’ve both grown, and that’s why I can even ask. I can admit that my life is better with him around. My only rule this time around… no more games. It destroyed us last time, and I can’t do that to him. Especially not now. He’s dealing with enough games and emotional crap that I just can’t do that to him, I can’t add to that. I have to put my instincts – my protective instincts when it comes to love and relationships – to rest, bury them as far into the damn ground as I can. It doesn’t have a place here anymore.

I can only hope that I can show Justin that. 

I can only hope that I don’t get scared out of my mind and fuck things up.

Fear is the worst thing in the fucking world. Dammit.

Justin doesn’t answer me, and I try to be patient. It’s killing me, it really is. I know I told him I can wait, that I will wait, but this not knowing anything is just going to completely destroy me. When he leaves in the morning to have brunch with the family, I’m nearly coming out of my skin. Never before have I put myself out there like this, and he’s bent on torturing me. I know that’s not his intent, but I still hate it with a fucking passion. 

I decide that when he comes back I’ll just ask him if he’s still considering it. Yeah, I know, bad Brian. I just don’t know anymore. I really don’t. He’s going to be the death of me.

“Brian?” Fuck me, I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t even hear him come in. “You okay? I’ve been calling you for like the past five minutes.”

“I’m fine, just thinking.” I go over to the refrigerator and pull out the bread. “So how was the mess with Molly?”

“Mom talked to her last night, so it wasn’t too bad. She held me, cried, didn’t want me to go.” Justin moved to sit on the stool across from me, and I can see that he had been crying himself. “She kept telling me that she loved me, and she said that Craig didn’t do anything to her. I believe her, but she said that if something happens I’ll be the first to know. So I kinda feel good about it. I just wish that he didn’t get her at all, but until mom gets the court order she still has to follow the divorce decree.”

I shake my head, once again amazed at the damn legal system. How they could let this man – and I use that term loosely – near any child is beyond me? Then again, that’s your justice system for you. Fuckers. I look at Justin and shake my head. “Guess I have to put a hold on that hit I put out on him.”

“Yeah, for now. But don’t burn that bridge yet.” Justin laughs. God, it’s so good to hear him laugh. It doesn’t happen nearly enough lately. 

“So how are you?” I ask.

“I’m doing okay. Really. I wasn’t sure when I went over there what I would feel, but … Molly helped me a lot.” Justin stands and makes his way around the counter to wrap his arms around my waist. “You’ve helped me a lot. I don’t think I would have gotten through this without you. And I know I have a long way to go, but I think I’m finally on the right path again. I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore. At least not all the time.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, that’s really good.” I turn around so I can pull him closer to me. “You’re not as much of an asshole that you try to portray to everyone. You’ve shown me time and time again who you really are, and I can say I really like that person.”

“Heaven forbid.” I say in mock horror. “Keep that between us. I have a reputation to protect.”

“You’re secrets safe with me.” He smiles as I bend down to lightly kiss his full lips. That’s just one of the reasons why I want him there with me all the time. Fuck, I just can’t get enough of him. Justin pulls back and I can see something in his eyes. What I have no idea, but I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready. No pushing, I keep telling myself. In time everything will become clear, and will work out. Ha! Me an optimist. That’s got to be a first.

“So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” I turn and go back to making my sandwich. The damn phrase still running through my head. I hate those little voices.

“I don’t know. I was thinking that we could go over to Daphne’s and get some of my shit.” Wait a minute, is he saying what I think he is? Holding my breath, I let him finish. I won’t get my hopes up. “That is… if the offer still stands.”

I laugh. Out loud, just fucking laugh. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest. “Oh it still stands.”

“Good, so how about we make some room in that closet of yours and clear out some damn drawers. We have to get another desk, cause if you think that I’m going to share one with you, you’re more full of yourself than I thought you were. Plus, that damn couch? Get ride of it… and I want to at the very least help pay the bills. If we’re going to be partners then I want to have it as close to equal as we can get.”

Partners? Fuck me. I have no idea how to answer him, so I just turn and pick him up over my shoulder and toss him onto the bed. I don’t think I have ever been happier than I am right now. Will we have fights? Hell yeah, this is still us. We’re still complete opposites in may ways, and we’ll fight like any couple does. Partners. Fuck me. 

Guess growing up isn’t so bad.

Would we have reached this point if this mess with his dad hadn’t happened? I don’t know. All I know is if that is the reason for this, than I can’t hate the fact that he remembered completely. He’s grown, it made him stronger. Made both of us stronger.

Do we have a long way to go? Yes. He still has a lot to work through, but now I know that I will be there. Nothing is going to keep me away. He’s letting me help him, and in return he can help me. 

That’s one thing about this. He’s made me reevaluate my own past. This has made me reevaluate a lot of things. Things that I never thought needed to be thought of again. 

So not only is he stronger, but I am too. Yes, I just finally realized that. 

Guess that’s what partners do.

Maybe someday I’ll even be able to tell him that I love him, cause I do. 

Only time will tell, but at least we’re willing to travel that road together. That’s all I ever wanted. 

The two of us against the world. Side by side, as partners should. 

And the times that we disagree with each other… well that’s what make-up sex is for. But we’ll be there, together. No matter what real life throws at us.

We’ve made it through so much already. The bashing, me, this… something will always come up, but at least we know we can work through it. We can be there for each other. We know when to push and when to back off. That’s what makes us work so well. 

But now… well sorry folks, but this is something that you don’t need to see. Privacy shit. Cause what I plan on doing right now… well the kids get to bed, cause things are heating up. 

Sorry, no more for you. Justin and I will work out. Long winding road, yes. But we’ll handle it when the times comes. Right now… 

Well I’m having myself a nice piece of blond boy ass. Not something you need to see.

Partners. Fuck me.

Justin’s moving in.


End file.
